


On a Devil's Wings

by TheTentacleCommander



Series: The Devil's Saga [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance | BSAA, Body Horror, Character Death, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Dark Crack, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fridge Horror, Fridge Logic, Horror, Human Experimentation, Implied Mind Rape, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Infected Characters, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Disintegration, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Rape, Morally Ambiguous Character, Multi, Old work, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Past Mind Control, Pheromones, Predator/Prey, Scenting, Self-Harm, Size Difference, Squick, Story Arc, Survival Horror, Tentacle Monsters, Teratophilia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTentacleCommander/pseuds/TheTentacleCommander
Summary: A fourth story that will definitely not be a one shot. Set right after the lab explosion at the end of 'The Sacrifice of Devils', it seems that devils don't easily die.This is where hard decisions and painful truths that change everything known up to this point occur. Do not expect the fairy tale ending to stay pretty.A lot of elements will be introduced from an ongoing outside rp involving Zeus and hasGhandon's Reports- a series of files stored by the late researcher - referenced in tandem with this arc. The last remaining brother to Nemesis, Zeus is a creature of not sound mind nor understanding of the value of life. He is 'free' from his 'Father' Simon Ghandon, but is ensnared by a deeper want - to find his brother and to clean him of his failings including his weak female and child.His eyes see nothing but things that would displease Father.He smells nothing but fear and weakness.He hears voices that tell him lies and truths.He wants to feel brother shed his filthy blood in repentance.He wants to taste - what is profane.





	1. On a Devil's Wings - Prologue

**On a Devil's Wings - Prologue**  
  
_It's hot…_  
  
_Father_  
  
_Why is it_  
  
_So hot?_  
  
_Where did brother go?_  
  
_Where are we…_  
  
_Body feels lighter yet heavy. The feeling of thrashing underneath skin registered to the 'mind'; the sensation curling through bone and muscle culminating into the sick ripping of tentacle pushing through_ skin _. More and more purple-black tendrils push through the headless corpse of the 3rd NE-T to have ever existed._  
  
_The head was still pinned to the wall, the sword hilt sticking out of a maw gapingly open in a monstrous permanently shark-toothed smile. The head was staring blankly at the world with empty bloodied sockets. …Not that in life the artificially reddened eyes gazed with any more life unless the gaze of madness hidden behind them counted as such. The body still vaguely registered the sensation of sloppy jagged cuts the sword that struck him down left_ along _what was left of the neck._  
  
_But the one that did this to him – the male that had his own head burnt away by a frail, hapless human in one point and time – had hurt the body but did not end the mind. The parasite that was in name Zeus had merely retreated deeper into his stocky body, letting brother Nemesis behead him. A necessary sacrifice to survive and a gamble that paid off. As his former head stared blankly with still wet ichor dripping down the wall, his parasitic tentacles like bloody fingers pushed out through his neck. His limbs had begun to move albeit jaggedly only sensing heat but nothing more._  
  
_If there was pain, he could not register it. Not that he really understood what pain was in 'life'. Pain was like another touch. Another way to touch, mark, claim…brother. Where is_ brother _? The NE-T's body had risen with the grace of a zombie, only having_ touch _to guide his way, the senses of sight, taste, smell, and sound denied him. It feels so warm now. Too warm. The parasitic brain that maneuvered the body like a headless marionette did not dare emerge out for fear of losing what it had claimed as 'himself' for so long._  
  
_The body had after a few moments of moving around blindly, stood stock still. The many tendrils protruding from the severed line of his neck reached outward like spidery fingers. They roam out nearly crossing the entirety of the room grazing along old toppled overstuffed and positioned dead animals, to the blank expanse of_ wall _where a tapestry once hung. A tendril touched the wall, dragging along the layer of dust the large wall hanging had hidden._  
  
_It dragged downwards still till it wrapped around something metal, along with wetness. The tentacle wrapped tighter still around the metal before pulling on it. With inhuman strength, the tentacle ripped the metal item from the wall. Had he had the ability to hear, the sickening sound of muscle ripping along with the thud of the heavy unattached head hitting floor would have registered. The metal item was dropped to the floor, the bigger prize now somewhere on the floor._  
  
_More tendrils shot to the floor, the mass now certain of where the missing head was. They curled around that broken, bloodied pile of flesh, bone, muscle and whatever filled the head of the 'dead' Tyrant before lifting it up towards the stump where it should have been at the Tyrant's neck. Almost immediately they began to penetrate the head – still warm for it was very recently he had even lost it – from the bottom, the tendrils filling key portions of it. From within the parasite began to fill the fatty mess of brain and cortex; the organ itself not important for it only gave the parasite more cushion. The Tyrant body Zeus 'inhabited' was long mentally dead anyway. The reintroduction of the parasite would revive what needed to be._  
  
_He could not see, but he could vaguely hear and smell again. Smoke and the loud countdown to some sort of purge. His eyes were damaged; he could not see for brother made sure to blind him. It would take a while to fix what was needed._  
  
_Too long...it's hot here._  
  
_We are confused. Why are we here?_  
  
_We…We need to rest. Father why is it so warm._  
  
_The strangely reattached head shifted and held on, the parasite slowly trying to blend it with the body again, making both one. But it…he needed time. So much energy needed; this place is too warm. Like a blind_ worm _the risen Tyrant's body shifted through the eternal darkness, grasping along the thick dusty walls. The sensation of the ground moving was odd but warned him something wasn't right._  
  
_Father wasn't right…no. Father is dead. Father and that female…and…and…_  
  
_And?_  
  
_Despite being blind, despite feeling the not so complete reattachment of his head, the parasite known as Zeus slowly reclaimed his body and along with it the memory of what landed him here. Father was dead now. He, in other words, was free. But what is free? No, Father is just dead in body, that's all. There is no 'free' for us. Freedom meant being unneeded. Unnecessary. Like brother._  
  
_He could only understand the freedom of anger, complete obedience, and rage at the image of who did this to him. This last pushed him through halls full of debris and rubble he could not see, through fires he could only feel, the scents of blood and viral agents filling his hidden nostrils. The loud and obnoxious warnings of a long-dead human's voice rung in his ear holes.  But most of all he could almost taste him…taste the lingering presence of his 'killer' on a tongue that licked across sharp teeth._  
  
_'Oh Zeusy, are you still being a good dog? Good dogs know to lie down when beaten.'_  
  
_If he could work his not quite functioning voice box, he would've snarled at the voice. Brother even now is trying to make us fail. Ruining our thoughts with your lies!? But that's okay, we will prove you wrong. We will make you **lie**  as Father taught us. We won't…wo_n't _let you confuse us. We are too filthy for that. Yes…too filthy. Even with the voice of brother roaming in his head, he was not deterred; if anything Zeus could only feel the rising excitement from not only their last fight but in still feeling his lingering presence in the air. Even his bloodstained leathers held splatters not his but of his brother._  
  
_Oh yes._  
  
_We will find him._  
  
_We will find and destroy such weakness, and make brother see his error. Brother is so wrongly made, Father. Why doesn't he accept our assistance? We are his better. We will strip him clean of his filth._  
  
_So much filth coats you, brother._  
  
  
xxx…………………xxx  
  
  
The shaking of below ground explosions rocked the lab; persons in uniform scattered from the chain of earth rocking destruction, each one longer and more destructive than the last. It was obvious that it would soon escalate into a much larger explosion – indeed what was once a small abandoned lab soon became a large mushroom cloud of fire and destruction fanning outward in a large radius.   
  
Somewhere amidst all this:  
  
BSAA troops scattered for their lives, their targets having disappeared in the confusion.  
  
The Tyrant known as Nemesis had evaded them all with Jill Valentine in his arms, the woman recovering mysteriously from apparent death.  
  
Sheva Alomar was driving away with Sia Valentine, the two far away from the blast radius.  
  
And yet a fourth party limping blindly away from the flames, had made his move unknown to any of the others. This would become a rather unfortunate mistake.


	2. On a Devil's Wings – 1 Drifting Away

**On a Devil's Wings – 1 Drifting Away**  
  
 _Oh, shit...oh shit...what did Trent drag us into?_  
  
The rocking of the ground underneath Shana's feet kept her adrenaline high; the lab going up in a billow of flames. She felt the tremors before the heat, her training told her that someone or something had indeed set off the alarm system that most Umbrella run labs were notorious for.   
  
The BSAA that had gathered to take out the known targets were now scattering like disorganized ants, the explosions and primal need for self-preservation overriding group loyalty. Shana was assigned to the building front, the glass framed entrance the only known way inside. She was certain there was another, but information was scarce, only being told to expect ex-operative Valentine to arrive there.  
  
The woman wanted to scratch her head at the fallen comrade. She was once the model soldier, the woman that proved that females can handle their own on the field. She fought with little more than her wits and whatever weaponry she could find trapped in various dangerous situations that would overwhelm most. The very organization that Shana decided to join at a mere 30 years of age was founded by this very woman now fighting a guerrilla war with their assembled group meant to 'extract' her into custody. But for an extract mission, they were heavily armed. Something in the back of Shana's mind told her the BSAA planned to extract her body at the end of this. Shana had hoped to meet her someday, retired or not if only to see her idol in the flesh. Thinking back on everything tonight, more than merely her shoulder was injured.  
  
And now here she was, fresh from recruiting to here, chasing her down like an animal. Years of police and field duty prepared her for the rough life of an agent, but not the shattering of that image Shana held of Jill Valentine. She put so many lives in danger – for that thing?! The small, nondescript compact car that the wanted woman had fled in from a state over had come as Trent predicted, but it seemed even years off the field did not dull Valentine.   
  
She had arrived armed to bare, showing that not giving up attitude that the Raccoon incident survivor was well known for. Shana held back her starstruck feeling to rush at the wanted woman, along with her team. Even mid-combat, along with the faces of anger some still was as much amazed as her to be even in the older woman's presence. Valentine fought them off, shooting to disable, fighting towards the elevator.  
  
At one point Shana found herself staring down the blonde; Jill's eyes were tired then, tired as her hands kept shooting. It seemed unfair, this woman doesn't look or act like a criminal. Shana pushed back her doubts making herself remember that this woman harbored and supposedly was more with a B.O.W. - a dangerous one that had no qualms about being a threat.   
  
Her group had hung back, till just her and Jill stared at each other. Another she could barely hear were coming from behind to shore up their flank. The woman looked like she was musing, her left holding something round in her palm. In the halo of flames, Valentine looked so strong – save for her eyes. Those eyes read of age and years of conflict that was only whispered about. But even with all that was done to the woman and what she allowed, Shana could not help but for a moment feel amazed at seeing her idol in the flesh. So swept up in the moment, she breathed out in a mix of awe and sadness, "Why? Why Ms. Valentine, why?" Those pale blue eyes, that woman whose whole body looked unnaturally pale turned to her with a gaze of pure serenity right before she tossed the flash grenade.  
  
Shana had rubbed her eyes along with the encroaching others, the flash blinding her heavily. By the time an unaffected contingent had gotten to her position, Valentine had slipped away. Seeing that woman's eyes and how utterly haunted they were made Shana fell less hurt that her idol was to go down like this, but more pity at the fact that the blond did not care, running madly to die with that beast.  
  
 _What would cause that?_  
  
Revisiting that glance in her mind didn't give Shana any clearer answers, but the rolling explosions beneath her told her that there was less time to ponder the madness of a lost soul and more in getting the hell out of here. Vehicles were clumped together; no time to fish for keys, any viable ones if not too clumped were parked very far away to not rouse too much suspicion in their targets.  
  
Trying to find Commander Trent was less of import now. Shana just ran, ran hard and ran fast needing to escape the rising heat and flames that was sure to follow.   
  
xxx………………….xxx  
  
  
 _Can't see...everything is all black. Father, why can't we see?_  
  
Zeus was reduced to trusting his other barely functioning senses; he felt grass underneath him, the smells of flames was far away replaced by open air. Zeus did not hear...no...he did...steps. Loud obnoxious ones that only humans make. So not quiet they are, so noisy. They scare so easily. The jingle of metal. He moved slowly, letting his ear holes pick up on where the loud human was and where he was in relation to it.   
  
Sparks of bright lights flicked in his head; soon those sparks will become vision again. Vision he sorely missed. The shifting of the steps again; the human is a few feet away; the steps are fleeing but not due to him. There was no change in the human breathing to denote panic. Why not? Panic makes the blood pump faster. Panic smells nice.  
  
But this human clearly does not see him or is not aware of his presence.  
  
 _So tired...want to sleep._    
  
The breathing of the human, it dipped sharply. Zeus followed the scent closely not needing the steps to tell him where the human was. The scents told him it was male, and alone for now. The breathing was coming out in rapid spurts, shallow and shakily. The movement of a metal thing added to what Zeus could hear.  
  
 _The human knows..._  
  
"The fuck...oh shit..." The click of a walk-talkie button push was heard.  _Oh, noo...we can't...no talking. NO TALKING!_    
  
 _"Yea, you back to camp yet? There's a barbeque and I don't-"_  
  
"M-mate I'm fucking...hell I'm-!" Zeus could hear it shaking in the male's hand. He made no noise, encroaching, smelling the delicious warmth of fear.  
  
 _"Hey, jerk don't yell at me. Get your ass back to base camp I don't have time for any more shit, this day has already gone straight to hell....yo. You there? Bet he left the thing depressed down, stupid ass..."_    
  
He sprinted straight at the warm scent; the sound of the human trying to flee made him giddy. A tentacle snaked out; it lashed out hitting flesh the tendril ripping effortlessly through flesh and bone and softer matter he was unsure of. No screams. As much as he wanted them he couldn't afford that. The body spasmed as Zeus whipped the slick tentacle around dragging the human towards himself. Warm giblets slid down his face; humans smell so warm, so good.   
  
 _Oh...no more mind to be had. Silly human._    
  
He felt the instinctual urge to not let this find go to waste. Already he was salivating, the blood smell so familiar to what Father would let him ingest. Zeus nearly groaned out in baser pleasure, eating always felt so good. His tentacles lightly touched around the opening it made, feeling enough to feel the shape of a head.   
  
 _We'll eat your thoughts and dreams now. You don't need them anymore._  
  
 _"Gawddamnit Brian, unclick if you ain't gonna say anything useful!?"_  The handheld screeched out its taunts; Zeus became annoyed with it and picked it up only to crush it in his hands. The smells of blood delighted him, but he did not want to eat out in the open. As he tossed the once identifiable thing to the side it hit something larger and metal with a deep clang. Zeus cupped the corpse in his arms, blindly feeling along the metal thing. A building of some sort. Small; he could almost ring his arms and span almost the whole of the small metal building's side. He felt a door cut into the building along with patches of rust.   
  
Lightly he opened it smelling unknown chemicals around him. He nearly crushed a wooden thing, the splintering wood cracking along his boot. This place was cramped and full of it seemed wooden tools with metal tops. He smelt a few bags of dirt piled into a side corner. Stepping carefully he lowered himself onto the pile, letting a stray tentacle close the door behind him.  
  
 _Strange building; so small. But now we can rest.  
  
Then we can turn human into meat. Then to less._   
  
The sound of rain pelting the sky did not bother the NE-T as he hungrily ate his found dinner. The satisfying crack of bones, brain matter, muscle, flesh, whatever Zeus could stuff in his mouth was ripped to pieces by sharp permanently exposed teeth, the juices and leftover dropping along his leathers. The taste of the meat was heavenly and pleasing as it was still warm and bleeding. He will fill his belly, then rest.  
  
  
xxx………………….xxx  
  
The air breezed through her chocolate brown locks, her face coated in a small spattering of mud. What her Momma called 'the great adventure', Sia, nearing 7 years old understood that she would never live a normal life anymore. As the car pulled away, through the cracked open windows she waved at Sheva, her Auntie and only real family left. The bad people had taken her home, and almost her parents.  
  
And now, they had to go far away. Away from their yelling, their screaming, their staring, their hurting. Auntie promised to see her again in her dreams. But Sia despite herself knew that promises were nothing if they never came true. The actions of others, even her own dead Uncle made her question it all.   
  
The car traveled turning down many roads, crossing many checkpoints, all with Momma talking to persons, none of them ever checking inside the large van they were in. She knew when Momma got to them as she would roll the windows closed. Papers were curled on the passenger seat, her and her Daddy in the far back under covers. He only moved to pet her hair, but otherwise stayed silent. The windows let them see from the outside, but people from outside could not see in.   
  
It was so long an adventure; Sia wondered if Momma got tired driving for so long. But she did not ask, only rising out of the covers for food. Sometimes she'd park the van far coming back with shopping bags. Only then would Daddy sit up, eating the raw meat. Momma would look around before letting first Sia then him leave to go in the woods. Then they would be back in the van heading to Monster Island.   
  
 _That's where Momma said we were going, anyway._


	3. On a Devil's Wings – 2 The Egg

**On a Devil's Wings – 2 The Egg**  
  
 _It's better to be feared than loved; if you cannot be both...  
  
Father...what did you mean by that?  
  
Your words they ...we do not understand...  
  
It hurts  
  
We are so little in understanding_  
  
The body slowly reforms from the beginning – a vein here, a piece of sinew there-  
  
The milky whites slowly congeal into being wrapped around the framework of branching nerves.   
  
The miracle of eyes forming from nearly nothing was overshadowed by the racking pain the body felt. The parasite had it been newly taking over the body would've avoided this. But since it was fused to it, the shell and the parasite shared the same pain. And so despite healing himself, Zeus was still thrashing in a blend of agony and disorientation.  
  
 _Father, why?  
  
Why does it hurt?_  
  
His maw was gaping open, but nothing but garbled air came from his throat; the sensation made him claw at his neck as the motion reminded him of the pain of his still mending vocal cords severed along with his neck at the end of a sword.   
  
He was still dreaming; but the dreams never made sense, no they never did. Just voices and scenes  
  
 _why can't we dream, it's broken it's not clean  
  
never clean, nevernever **never**  
  
Father why are so-_  
  
Suddenly eyelids that once held nothing but hanging muscle and mangled flesh now held inside them moving eyes. The realization that sight had returned to him had Zeus curl into a tight ball the light startling him for a good moment. The room is blessedly dark.  _So dark. Dark is warmth. Silence is purity_. He peers through his jacket cuff to observe his darkened surroundings. His eyes confirmed the scents of dirt and the sensation of barely visible metal; tools and various gardening supplies. He was surrounded by cold metal walls that had ridges along them; a small tool shed.  
  
But his body shifted again; what woke him in full was something small. Movement. Movement and a new scent. A female's scent. Zeus rouses still shaking and coated in a sheen of sweat. His body still ached but not as much as before. Not that pain had much sway over him. It wasn't as important as much as he had to follow that scent.  
  
 _The female, no brother's female. She can't be_...but he smells her faint scent. He had to be sure.   
  
xxx………………….xxx  
  
Shana had sprinted far from the blast, willing her legs to run and to not look back. The ground rumbled and quaked with the once organized BSAA that had gathered to take out both targets now scattering for their lives. None were prepared for the self-destruct system to still be functional in this supposedly abandoned lab, much less anyone setting it off.  
  
She didn't want to think it, but would Ms. Valentine go that far?  _Would she set it off as a final fuck you to the very people she once lead?_  Shana didn't want to think this, but it seemed very suspicious for it after years of disuse to have such a system to go off now of all times.   
  
But this was something she could debate about later; she noticed a few comrades fleeing well ahead of her going towards a more wooded area. The warmth of the rising flame washed from behind her; she was lucky and got a running head start as the smell of chemicals, gas, and undoubtedly charred flesh rose in the air. The countdown gave them little time to run for it and -  
  
No, she won't think of those possibly lost. She will find a point of contact and regroup. The rocky gravel and weed covered ground of the lab grounds proper became grassier, more wooded and natural until she found herself in a shaded wood. Shana felt leaves rustling from the backdraft, her back feeling the rush of distant heat from what was once a laboratory.   
  
In fact over her head even from this distance, she could see outlining the sky large rings, the smoke and debris from what was left of the lab surrounded the orange and white flames that rose up from the smoking hole that once had a building sitting there. The aftermath of the explosion chased each other into the night sky making a large mushroom cloud coating the once clear night sky with gray.  
  
A low noise of movement that moment tore her eye away from the awe-inducing sight; if Shana didn't know better she thought she heard someone yell out. Sweaty fingers clasped over her standard issue sidearm, her skin flushed from the dead sprint from certain destruction. She may have been still 'green' BSAA wise but prior work ingrained in Shana early the merits of being prepared for anything.  
  
Handgun cocked, she slowly crept around her surroundings.  
  
Trees.  
A toppled over child's bike.   
  
Nothing too menacing. From what she could discern a small family lives in the area. She nor anyone else at least on her team was even notified civilians even lived out near the lab. The now destroyed lab seemed to be located in the middle of bumble fuck nowhere, an MO for Umbrella labs; they were either built hidden underground or hidden in plain sight enough so that a random passers by would assume the place was a regular no-name business location or something else like a hospital/clinic.  
  
By the looks of that lab, it had been there for a good 10+ years. The odds of who ever lived out here knowing it was there was null. But looming threat to civilians aside, the BSAA tended to be on top of such things. Why weren't they told of civies even being in the area? A rush job or not they tried to avoid human causalities by evacuating any nearby residents. But the time for what-ifs was the least of Shana's worries. The noise she heard was still unexplained.  
  
The movement had her still panning the area, the woman moving slowly. A part of her wanted to just chalk it up to an animal of some sort but these days anything and everything could be a monster ready to strike.   
  
 _These days, monsters lived and not just under beds._  
  
The snapshots of the other target her and the others were sent for was horrifying to even look at much less even consider what convinced the human fugitive...no Ms. Valentine.  _Innocent until proven guilty, right? She sure didn't look guilty of anything-_  
  
Shana sharply cursed out loud as she nearly tripped on something bulky and metal. She lifted her booted foot from the ground to see what appeared to be a broken piece metal crushed inwards with some plastic shards near it. It seemed too small to be anything more than trash. But the red that coated the area around it caught Shana's attention. In fact, a trail of red dotted the land trailing in a specific direction.  
  
Gun raised she headed towards the blood trail. Smaller pieces of metal made a secondary trail with the blood splatter along with what looked to be shuffling, dragged tracks in the ground. The footprints looked big, too big for even the largest of human feet. The three trails lead her to a rusted out old shed, the frame and barely ajar door covered in more of the red. As she neared it, Shana could smell it, the knowing smell of death. A larger crumpled piece of metal and wires sat by the shed's side along with a huge dent as if someone threw it hard against the metal shed.  
  
Someone was out here. Or something. She clicks the safety fully off, prepared or at least as prepared as she could be as a recruit.  _Wouldn't it be something if I took out a B.O.W. by myself? Fuck, this is bad_. She was without her squad with only a handgun, and some  _Invidia_  on hand. If that target B.O.W. from the reports had managed to get out of the lab – the Tyrant wasn't known for being a one person or even a one army job. The BSAA from gossip was still reeling from its one-man assault on the Cali base a month ago.   
  
The B.O.W. wasn't called by the loving nickname 'The Devil' for nothing.  
  
She tightened the grip on her handgun, holding her breath and trying as hard as she could to mask her steps.  _What would Valentine do here? She'd fuck all and run that's what?!  
  
...'Course troop gossip says otherwise._    
  
Troop gossip or not she had to investigate. With a small bit of resolve and a lot of adrenaline, Shana kicked in the rusted shed door. Her hands flew up protectively to her face as she faced the figure crouching in the corner.  
  
"This is the BSAA. Stand down! Hands up where I can see them to show you understand!" Her voice had a tremor of fear in it; she always wanted to be like her idol but not literally... The darkness of the shed made it very hard to see the figure's movements, but Shana knew to expect anything from the confirmedly violent Tyrant. Her gun sat steady in her hands as the figure stood upwards.   
  
"I said arms upward! Comply or I'll shoot-!"   
  
The figure sat up the face almost in a daze. As she began to aim for the head the person shouted, "God damn, you green! Can't you give a man a moment?"   
  
 _Wha..._  For a moment she was about to shoot before the man's steel grey eyes met hers. She nearly shot him point blank. "The hell, Mason? Why didn't you do anything? I would've blown your head off!"   
  
"Cause I like seeing greens sweat. That B.O.W. would've been tore your head clear off by now with the full minute you took in trying to shoot. Hesitation is for renta cops." The man smirked at her before returning to look down at what looked to be a badly eaten corpse.  His cocksure grin was the bane of Shana's existence. Any moment he got he'd find another reason to drill into her.  _Green, my ass. I'm not the one braving a bullet to prove an asinine point._    
  
"Well, I'm sorry. I'm too busy following the rules instead of picking at a dead guy!"  
  
"The rules matter less and less out here in the battlefield; then again I shouldn't expect a green to grasp that. And this 'guy' is Harris. Or do greens forget names at the drop of a hat too?" It wasn't so much that as much as she never got to know the guy. She was horrified yes but could detach from the horror of it. People in this line of work had to. Shana had learned long before the BSAA to be calm when finding a body. Calmness kept one's sanity. She honestly expected Mason to have the same mindset considering he prides himself on being a 'nongreen'. Shana's annoyance at Mason was pushed aside as she looked at the badly eaten and near unrecognizable man. The man's ID cards sat in Mason's hands, the things the only way she could've even guessed as to the dead man's identity. His whole face, no skull was ripped open as if something got at the brains.   
  
If this were years back, she and any other human would say a bear got him. But those in the know could see that clearly, a B.O.W. was here.  _Did that B.O.W. on the doc sheets really escape that lab? It was nearly surrounded by us. And by the mushroom cloud that formed from the explosion nothing, not even a God could've survived that._  
  
"At least I don't yell out when I see a corpse." Shana murmured at Mason. The wash of sudden red to his face was priceless. At this, she walked outside to investigate further and to bask in her small victory.


	4. On a Devil's Wings – 3 'The clock it ticks it tocks.’

**On a Devil's Wings – 3 'The clock it ticks it tocks.’**  
  
The small farmhouse had over a few minutes became a gathering point for the fleeing BSAA. After checking every corner of that shed, she and Mason walked out deciding to sweep the area. The unrecognizable cold corpse of a comrade was enough evidence that B.O.W. activity was going on out here. Whether it was the Tyrant from the destroyed lab no one was sure.  
  
But aside from the drops of blood trailing to the shack, nothing in the immediate area pointed toward what direction the thing that killed Harris went. It was as if the thing disappeared. It certainly wasn't in the shack as the small enclosure was searched top to bottom; Shawna even looked up towards the roof in case it leapt up there. The idea of this huge Tyrant crouching up upon this tiny shack to hide was a rather absurd thought as the small enclosure looked like the wind would topple it at any moment.  
  
“No sign of any tracks, no odd smells, not even a broken twig – what creature leaves nothing behind? Those class Tyrants are not known for being light,” Mason muttered, more to himself.  
  
“I don't know. To be fair, the files I was given didn't explain much about them. Only that they were rare and inherently aggressive.”  _This fact was rather odd to her, why of all B.O.W. was this type barely spoken of?_  
  
“Green, if I wanted to hear our files repeated, I'd have invested in one of those audiobook things.”  
  
Shana sighed. “Seriously, can you cool it? You are not the only one who is out of sorts today.”  
  
“Look. I just looked at a guy I've run with for untold years opened up like a bag of chips. No, not shot or killed in a decent and explainable manner, but ripped open. So excuse me if I'm a tad irate. ...told that fool not to patrol so damn far...” Despite the gruff man's show of being more abrasive than usual, it was clear that he was disturbed by the discovery of Harris. Mason in his own way was grieving, but Shana didn't need him using her as a punching bag. The man ever since she had been placed on his team had been on her from day one. She couldn't figure out why he was so abrasive towards her. At first, she thought it was because she was new. Or that he was just a mean son of a bitch. Of her being female. Many reasons he could use to be a complete ass to her. But as she saw others come into his team, switch out and so on, Mason was a dick, yes, but other newbies – some who were also women – never got as harsh commentary from him as he did to her.  
  
She even tried killing him with kindness. But her own patience destroyed that plan quickly within a few weeks. He simply loved ragging her and so she did not hide her disdain. To anyone else the potshots she fired back towards him could be seen as insubordination, but Mason never reported her. It was like he kept her around just to be a dick to her. But why, Shana could never figure out. Speculate, but never be sure. She could only put up with his weirdness. She could only sigh as she kept searching around by the shack's entrance. That same cluster of twisted metal sat on the ground. She picked it up with her gloved free hand to get a clearer glance-  
  
“Hurry up, green. We have no time for you going off on a treasure hunt.”  
  
 _Ugh. I'm not even that green anymore. When will he let up on that?_  
  
As the two combed the area, the crunch of new footfalls caught their attention. Two others in BSAA gear showed up – and suddenly without prompt, Mason had started talking in this cool demeanor, more in line with their profession and less the agitated jerk from before.  
  
“We have one confirmed operative casualty; Operative Harris is down.”  
  
“Noted. Any evidence or trails from the body?”  
  
“No. It was as if a ghost ate him. Not even one footprint.”  
  
“That's impossible. No B.O.W. ever attacks and doesn’t leave a trail. Did you both comb the area-”  
  
“Listen to me. Me and this green tripping over everything here searched all over. There was NOTHING. Nothing at all-”  
  
“There was this chunk of metal. It looks to be a...a chunk of some sort of electronics.” Shana flipped the distended and ruined metal piece only to look further seeing more pieces of metal, dirt, what looked to be a bent up telescoping pointer or antenna....a mangled pile of transistors...her eyes widened in realization: “...this was one of our walkie-talkies. Whatever killed him was intelligent enough to crush it. Would it not be a stretch to say it could avoid us tracking it? Just like it did at Ms. Valentine's residence?”  
  
A low rude cough coming from Mason interrupted her spoken train of thoughts.  
  
“One. We aren't sure that that thing is the one that killed Harris. Two. We aren't even sure if it was even just one bastard and not say a pack of fucking dogs that did him in. Three. Since did you become a detective, green?” She could hear the edge in his voice before Mason began to reach for the broken thing. But before he could get it out of her hand, the creak of a front door opened up. A small mop of hair peered out before a larger hand reached to pull the kid back inside.  
  
One of their number approached the house slowly while stating out in a clear tone their intentions. It was standard protocol to do so especially now that B.O.W. movement was suspected. “This domicile and its surrounding land is now under BSAA investigation. Please let us inside so that we can continue our investigation.”  
  
The sounds of movement and whispering was heard through the thin farmhouse screen door. But aside from that, no movement was made to open the door to let them in. This put the group on edge. This was all a precaution; the BSAA learned the hard way with the Valentine residence to be wary of areas unwilling or slow to allow them entrance. “As per Order 2765, any domiciles suspected of B.O.W activity are required to open their resident to BSAA investigation. We will either go in willingly or by force; if by force, charges will be given-”  
  
The worn, creaky screen door opened up slowly, a thin, worn hand pushing the door warily open. The owner of that hand seemed to struggle to open that door, before letting their shoulder hold it open instead as they cupped their hand quickly to their face with a shaky cough.  
  
The tired gray-blue eyes of a gaunt-looking man looked upon the group of four with this tired, haggard look. “What are ya'll looking for officers? We got nuthin' here but some old dirt, some corn and us folks.”  
  
“Sir,” The initial speaker began, “Your property is nearby a B.O.W. incident and we going by the evidence we found, believed that it had trailed to here.”  _Evidence? A guy died here!_  Shana was about to protest before she felt a low grunt from behind her. Mason was in her line of eyesight shaking his head.  
  
“Evidence? We got no monsters here. This area has save for a fox or two been quiet as quiet can be and we plan on keeping it that way. You all can go home now whoever you are.”  
  
“Sir, we have by executive order rights to investigate with or without your permission. Now, will you step aside and let us in or do we have to use force?”  
  
“Now don't you threaten me, son. I've been on this planet well before your mamma was born and didn't in all my life take shit from the gov't and won't start now. Dirty sneaky gov't liar wont let an old man die in peace. Now get off my property!”  
  
The group was taken aback by the man's hostility. He looked to be high in age and as pale as a ghost. The BSAA wasn't necessarily hated but they weren't loved either. Some thought that they simply weren't enough to stem the tide on the rise of biological and viral weaponry but not to the direct hostility this man had towards them.  
  
“...we may have to knock off an old man, green. This aint gunna look good,” Mason whispered.  
  
“Why don't we just tell him the truth?” Shana shot back.  
  
“Do -you- want to freak out this old man more?” He hissed.  
  
“Tell me what, gov't shill?” The old man raised his shaky hand at the group. “Tell old man Fenkins what? That you sold us out to China again? Or better yet did you guys get in good with the Rockefellers and dem Freemasons? I know what you folks are! Well, we want no part of your plans! Get off my farm!?”  
  
“It's gotta be better than letting him speculate, Mason!” Shana whispered back – but for being louder than anything, the man had great hearing.  
  
“Wha...did I hear one of you mention a 'Mason? See, I knew it! Go run to your handlers, gov't bastards!” The agent that had stayed behind with Shana and Mason had begun to walk forward. He had a hand back behind him wrapped around a taser.  _This...this old man looked as if he could be blown away by the wind!_  Shana walked up disturbed that the guy would even think of using that. But a step in, Mason's rough hand pulled her arm. She glared at him. Again, he shook his head wanting her to hang back. She shook his arm off of her, rather disgusted that of all things they were going to taser this old man.  
  
“Do not make us force, sir. An incident has occurred and we must investigate.”  
  
“The hell you are!” the man snarled back clearly irate. Then with a sudden movement they didn't think the man was capable of, he grabbed what looked to be a well-used shotgun aiming it frantically around himself. The silent BSAA was walking up to the side of the one that just spoke, taser in tow. “Get. Off. You can't push the little man around! This little guy – he pushes back!?”  
  
The operative with the taser watched as the old man turned around, aiming and looking around with a glare of both anger and paranoia. “Sir, you have to the count of five to stand down or force will be used. 5. 4.” The taser in the other's hand was coursing silently behind the other's back. He had managed to crouch to the side of the raving and ranting man without grabbing his attention. “3.....2....”  
  
“Dad! Stop!” The stern yet worried voice of a woman drifted from the house before a hand darted out onto the man's shoulder.  
  
“Eisha, this isn't the time! These bastards want to just go where they please when they please-”  
  
“Dad. No. Put it down they aren't here to hurt us.”  
  
“But-but look at ems they are...”  
  
“Stop it. Just, let us go inside. I'll get you a glass of milk, dad. Then you can eat-”  
  
“I don't like dem pills, Eisha. Thems the govemint's poison. They make me sleepy.”  
  
“Didn't you say sleepy is good? You can rest your body, right? Then you can tell us a story about the old days on the farm.” The newcomer looked to be middle-aged, but way calmer than her father. Her talking him down seemed to work as he lowered the weapon, shaking as he did so. “Can you please allow me to tend to my father? I am more than willing to let you in, I just have to get him back on his meds first. I'm so sorry about this.”  
  
She and the old man then quietly returned inside.  
  
“Phew, what a headcase,” the operative with the taser remarked.  
  
“I'm just glad you didn't need to use that thing, Oakins.”  
  
“Yeah, feels wrong to pop an old man like that.”  
  
Shana gave Mason a 'told you so look' before turning back to the front door. “Whatever green, it was either get in peaceably or knock him out. Rather us than that thing out here.”  
  
As the two started to go into a glaring contest, Eisha returned to the porch. “Sorry about that, my dad get's worked up easily especially with people he doesn’t know. Side product of...the cancer getting to him.” A somber look crossed her eyes before she changed the subject, “So, you need to investigate this area? We won't stand in your way, come on in.”  
  
xxx………………….xxx  
  
 _So much chatter. So much noise. Noisy, filthy things._  The taste of thoughts was still on Zeus' tongue. Thoughts tasted like salt, gristle, and bone. But other filth came near his hunting grounds, searching looking for their dead friend's thoughts – so sad as they are all gone, made into waste. Their words gave them away. He had crept long before their limited vision or hearing could tell them otherwise, balancing, creeping quietly despite his size. Father taught them well with rewards of pain to make His Horsemen so.  
  
But as Zeus crept away, a scent on one had him stop. His vision was blurry still, but slowly sharpening and adjusting. But that scent, through the dust, the smoke, the sweat, the faintest of one he knew well,  _despised well; damn her! Damn her for taking brother away!_  lingered on this female. Despite him recalling drowning her, bathing her in the fluid of his other brothers' embalming fluids her scent was still present if not faint.  
  
He watched as the female and her male accomplice look around the area where his kill was.  _So sad he couldn't finish his meal._ They had after doing so encountered more filth holing up inside of a house of some sort.  _The noise the male in the doorway was so loud it could have woken the dead._  Zeus could smell him; the smell of decay and sickness the older male gave off was not appetizing at all. Zeus though merely sat up the tree branch, planting himself along the junction of the branch and trunk adjusting his weight along it to keep within hiding.  
  
As he sat, he watched the incident escalate then end as the posse of warm bodies filed inside – except for one. The female stood outside reaching into her pocket. A small little metal trinket sat in her palm; a phone of some sort.  
  
“This isn't a good time, Jes. You know I'm not allowed calls on the job. Babe, stuff has gotten crazier than I expected. ...Jes. I-I can't right now. No, I'm not brushing you off it's just shit has gone down and...I know you are worried but just give it a few more days. We are already finding clues and I'll be back home soon.  
  
Yeah, I know. It's our anniversary but monsters don't wait.  
  
I'm sorry. I have to go. Love you.” The snap of the phone punctuated the end of the conversation. He could hear the sadness in her voice. Not as amusing to listen to as brother's bitch but the warm scent of life and blood was enough to make Zeus lick his teeth in glee. She smells like the sow. She may have been near brother as he escaped. She may know where brother is. And if not, Zeus will enjoy a fine meal anyway.  
  
xxx………………….xxx  
  
 **Two Months Later**  
  
The wind breezed through her hair, the small girl grinning as she propelled herself higher and higher along the rope swing. Girlish shrieks of excitement increased the higher Sia reached in the air. As she swung, she reached up and out, it looked as if she was touching the sky, the clouds parting the way for her small hand. At least that's what she imagined.  
  
The clouds, the birds, all moved by her hand just like the sorceresses in her storybooks. She still enjoyed her book about monster island, but she was becoming quite the avid reader with fantasy books eating up her time along with painting. As she reached upwards, hoping to touch a thick grey cloud, the roar of something far down the mountainside their house was perched on caught her hearing. Down along the barely visible dirt road was a torrent of clouds, smaller than the ones she was poking at and brown colored from the dust kicked up.  
  
As Sia let her rope swing slow down back towards the earth, she saw the faint movement of the high brush like grass near her, the flash of black barely noticeable. The grass, bushes, trees, and other local fauna parted way for the nearly invisible watcher that protected both her and her mother. The roar of the encroaching thing grew louder, the sounds becoming more identifiable as that of a motorcycle. The motorcycle encroached closer and closer till the puffs of smoke was now filling her vision. Their house was way farther down the road but her mother had decided that having a direct path to there wasn't a good idea so had any path stop here forcing visitors to walk and find their residence.  _But we never get visitors...Momma says no one even knows we are here._  
  
The motorcycle stopped at this 'dead end', the rider shutting the thing off. The rider then got up off the vehicle; Sia out of instinct started to slowly get off of her swing, being told to if anyone was to show up to back away and hide.  
  
 _Daddy would handle the bad things._  
  
“H...wait..!” A muffled reply from under the thick motorcyclist's helmet had Sia stop momentarily. The child could barely make it out; she not wanting to disobey her mother began to move faster away from the stranger.  _Strangers are bad; strangers never mean well._  The softer but just as looming shadow of the third person present lingered near the rider. He protected them at all costs, and right now the rider was now being intensely watched. The rider's body language shifted nervously – as if they knew this. The rider slowly moved their hands having them out clearly so that they could be seen. They then went to their helmet and pulled it up off of themselves revealing sweaty strands of dark hair put up into a ponytail sticking to a just as sweaty caramel brown face. Sia's eyes lit up with pure happiness before she ran towards the motorcyclist, the woman herself grinning from ear to ear.  
  
“H-hi there girly girl. Told you I'd find Monster Island.”


	5. On a Devil's Wings – 4 Time to dine.

**On a Devil's Wings – 4 Time to dine.**  
  
  
 _'Dear Heart, you will be the love letter I've always wanted to give to Christopher. Even after I fade from this earth, he will never see the brightness in your eyes again.'_  
  
Sheva felt her skin crawl as that man's voice drifted from the laptop. It had been many years since that ordeal, that nightmarish trial in Africa that changed her homeland to ash, blood and mutated corpses. That man brought death, and to hear his voice again reminded her of the mission that nearly was the end of her.  
  
She had left her motorbike behind and had walked hand in hand with the excited as ever little girl. Sheva was glad for Sia's presence as their hidden escort was very keen on making her walk to the house as uncomfortable as possible. The feeling of his eye keeping watch on every step she made was in a word 'off-putting'. She was certain had Jill been there, he would not be doing this.   
  
But eventually she reached the small cottage;  _Dad's summer home_ , Jill had called it. How her family had managed to have a home like this off the grid, Sheva was unsure. She recalls Jill joking once about her dad being a gangster but considering how off the beaten path the place was maybe that rumor was more truth than joke.  
  
She had once arriving there long put up her bags; her laptop was sprawled open with many files open. She had finally found an opening to get back in contact with Jill. Things had changed; information was more forthcoming of what was going on, but more importantly, there was stuff Sheva knew Jill would want to see.   
  
The woman tilted her head for a moment taking a quick pan around the area of her small room. She felt almost nervous in reviewing these files. They were old, some grainy and damaged. She wasn't sure due to age or due to the slight file corruption of them when Jill uploaded them through Chris' old phone. But she barely got to look through them; some of them looked like videos, some like document scans.  
  
Well, all but one. It was the one that had her rush down here in the first place.  
  
The  _Tra Tra_  file.  
  
It was that file that showed how cruel Umbrella could be; letting man-made abominations rampage and destroy all for a test...  
  
and the one that was nearly suffocating in his clearly territorial pathing the whole way up through the winding roads and purposely left overgrown foliage was at the center of it. She softly closed the laptop lid closing her eyes. Jill was waiting for her to get settled. But knowing what she knew now there was no such thing as 'being settled' now.  
  
Sheva understood now where Chris was coming from and hated that long after his death was when understanding would hit her. The woman took a deep breath before walking out to the dining room.  
xxx…................xxx  
  
  
The glare of the sun beams down upon the sweaty, messy brown haired child running across the patchy green clearing. Filled with overgrowth and trees, the area was not safe for anyone really running through it, but the child ran all the same. She had long left having seen her Auntie go and get settled into the guest room. She wanted to be a big girl now and help in any way she could and so was doing just that.  
  
Sia twisted and turned, her face set in a mask of predatory determination, licking her lips as she sprinted over logs, and dodged under overgrowth. She ran with a speed and grace that was not normal to a child her age; she could hear the heavy breathing of the animal in hot pursuit behind her. She had startled the large buck grazing off foliage by the small lake south of the large near off the grid land her family resided on. It was enraged that it was disturbed and was hot on the girl's trail.  
  
She was dead focused, thinking of nothing but this chase, a part of her near beaming at this. It was as if a deeper part of her was immensely pleased and never wanted this to end. But, it had to sometime.   
  
 _Momma would worry if they were late for dinner._  
  
And so she turned sharply down a darker shaded patch of leaves and foliage with a hole just large enough for her tiny form. Sia dived forward knowing the buck would follow. As she dived through the foliage, she out of the corner of her eye could see the raging deer leap with her. Mid-air leap, it's antlers tilted to ram into Sia, the buck jerked to an unnatural stop as a pair of purple-black tendrils shot upwards, one spearing it in the heart, and the other wrapping around its neck. With a sharp jerk, that tendril snapped the deer's neck killing it instantly.   
  
Slowly, the now dead deer was lowered to the ground away from Sia. The child smiled that very uncanny predatory smile upwards to her Daddy, proud that she got to be of help again. Sia liked these outings; she understood that he was training her to hunt using whatever strengths she had to do so. He rose from his hidden perch shaking off the leaves that covered his black limiter suit before leaning down to the dead animal. The Tyrant tilted its head, removing his impaling tentacle from it. Large fingers softly pushed inside the gaping hole just enough to coat a finger with blood. Softly he brought that finger to Sia's cheek, marking her role in this important kill. The girl's face flushed with both excitement and pride. These hunts they'd do together gave them a bond that only the two predators could understand.   
  
Her mother had protested her going with him at first but seeing the sheer happiness Sia felt after did not stop them. As long as she returned safe and dinner was provided, their outings were sanctioned. Besides, Sia needed to truly get to know her father and this was his way of spending quality time. Her father after marking her face, lifted the buck like it was nothing on his back before nodding towards Sia. She smiled as they began to run back towards the house. Sia knew she could not really outrun him, but seeing her father purposely hold back in order for her to keep up made Sia chuckle as they raced back to the house.  
xxx…...........................xxx  
  
  
“Hey, where the sprout and your um  _bodyguard_  at?”  _Keep it neutral, you know Jill will defend him._  Sheva was trying to push down her nervousness. She only hoped that her unease would be seen as simply her excited to be seeing Jill again. She sat in the kitchen nook, watching Jill prepare a large vat of water. Bags of freshly picked vegetables, cooking spices, and what looked to be cut up chunks of meat were arranged neatly onto her cooking space. Deer meat was on the menu according to the blonde. She knew this was out in the backwoods but didn't expect her to go all out country though it shouldn't have surprised her. Jill had mentioned in their rare correspondence the various animals she got to experimentally cook out here and her pride in managing a garden out back. Jill seemed to take that mantra about the simple things in life to heart. If only things would stay that simple.  
  
The blonde turned, wiping her brow as the steam from the huge vat rushed up.   
  
 _There was only 4 of us. How much do they eat to justify such a huge thing?_  
  
“Having a father-daughter moment, you know the usual. Not much to do out here but hunt and play. Well and a bit of homeschooling for the girly. Kind of envious really; not a care in the world those two.” Jill softly laughs at this, before smiling. A part of Sheva was glad to see her doing that, yet something about that smile seemed off and she couldn't place why. “So, things holding up well in 'reality'?”  
  
“...if by that you mean 'not particularly good' then sure.” Sheva shifts nervously in her seat. She hated this. She felt like the bad news blimp or that rain cloud waiting to burst out with a torrent of rain over a parade.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“Yeah, it's just been a wild ride.”  
  
 _She could remember it all like it was yesterday. She and Josh were talking, just talking like normal humans would after getting over something devastating like well seeing your employers as the lying thugs they are? Just talking and then she felt herself move with instinct the odd movement of a person behind her the only thing she heard. She swept out her leg behind her feeling legs topple from the sudden assault. The clang of metal fell shortly after the body onto the floor; a gun.  
  
The figure had simply stopped moving, letting Sheva grapple them. Sheva pulls her would be assassin to herself, hissing out, “How low for a BSAA-”  
  
“I don't work for those dogs,” The figure monotonely drawls before chuckling. It was odd how this person seemed not in the slightest bothered by the situation they have now put her and everyone else on the plane in.    
  
“Then....who do you serve, you traitor?”  
  
The assassin merely grins in that off-kilter way he had been before shoving off Sheva. He then ran to the gun, with Josh in hot pursuit. The assassin though beat the other man to the weapon pointing it towards everyone – before pointing it towards himself.  
  
He then says in a near business tone voice, “We send our regards – There is no heaven.” The assassin then smiles coldly at Sheva before he shoots coating the side of the plane with red gore, his body sagging to the floor._  
  
“Oh God,” Jill gasps. “What...what could push someone to do something so crazy? Did he just give up?”  
  
“No.” Sheva softly replied. “He did exactly what he intended. To send me a message. The assassin had Umbrella key cards which is already being looked into, but he definitely intended to kill us on that plane probably in a suicide mission to crash our aircraft. Since he failed to do that, he was giving me a warning. This is bigger than hunting down you three, Jill. This is bigger than the BSAA. 'What the hell is going on?' I wish I knew. But right now we all have right to be on edge.”  
  
“You know, it's odd really.”   
  
“What's odd? Assassins...I shouldn't be surprised and neither should you-”  
  
“No, not that. This feeling. I...I don't know how to...Do you ever have this feeling, like you shouldn't be here like, you've cheated somehow?” Sheva tilts her head, unsure of where Jill was going with this.   
  
“I one minute am suffocating, feeling fluid and the strain of my lungs and darkness then bam I'm just here like everything was reset?”  
  
 _That happened to her?_  Sheva out of concern grabs Jill's hand wondering what other things Jill hasn't revealed to her.  
  
“I-I shouldn't be here, Sheva. It's almost as if Death doesn’t even want me now.”  
  
“No! Don't say that Jill. Don't. Not after all you've been through! You gave him a child, clearly, that's-”  
  
Sheva stops as she realizes she had spoken that out loud.  _Shit_. She looks up into Jill's eyes, hoping beyond hope she didn't anger her. She didn't want to go down the path Chris went. She wanted to help, yes but didn't want to put Jill on the defensive. That only caused her to push him away.  
xxx….............xxx  
  
  
It had been a few months now holed up in this ramshackle farm with an alright civvie and her delusional crank of a father.   
  
Eisha explained that her dad was suffering from delusions mostly caused by onset dementia on top of cancer eating at his body. He used to run this farm on his own but his doctors pretty much told her that he didn't have many years to live. But that kind of diagnoses meant that the family farm was basically s.o.l. without him running it.  
  
She gave up her catering career to take the farm over and take care of him till his eventual passing. A grim story but nothing suspicious. Shana could only hope that when she grew old any kids she'd have would be as dedicated to her as this woman was to her ailing father.  
  
But so far, their team had sat in this location. At first, it seemed like a wild goose chase as if whatever got Harris just moved on. But every time the team thought to pack it up, clues would be left behind like a large dent in the side of the shed, or a mangled deer that couldn't have been done by any human or animal that quickly or silently, or strange tracks that led nowhere.  
  
Whatever it was, it had definitely not left. Leaving civvies behind with it was out of the question.   
  
 _It was as if it was not only watching, but taunting us, dangling clues to keep us on edge.  
  
It was succeeding._  
  
“If I wanted you to lead, I would've said so, green.”   
  
“What is your problem, Mason? You're being a major dick even more than usual to me!”  
  
He simply glares at her silently, the frustration clear on his face.  
  
“Look, if you are still mad about Harris-”  
  
“It's nothing, green. Just drop it.”  
  
“Nothing? Just wh-”  
  
“Nothing. Bevins.”  
  
He rarely used her last name, or anything other than 'green'. This had her back off only to see the fleeting glance of sadness cross his face only to return back to the gruff exterior Mason was known for. He then turned sharply going off to handle whatever needed doing during their vigil for the hiding Tyrant. They had been at it more than usual these last few weeks, the monster still not found yet with a clear abundance of clues purposely left behind.   
  
They had over time gotten to know the small family; old man Fenkins, Eisha and her grandson Charles. Shana remembered the first day they moved their gear inside and the little boy beaming that the  _good guys_  were here.  
  
Shana wanly smiles;  _yeah, we're so good that an 8+ tall Tyrant is -still- evading us._  She thinks back to the last time she had to track a B.O.W. -   
  
 _target sighted in the Mojave Desert approach with caution._    
  
She sucks in air, remembering that fated day. The monster, the same one they were hunting now looked so confused then, so lost. It was like cornering a dog.   
  
But now, they were the ones cornered and all they could do was either bitch at each other or outwait it.  
  
Shana snaps out of her mental daze to feel soft tugging at her gear. She chuckled before ruffling the boy's hair. “What's up, Charles? Found any treasures today?” The boy had a small harmless hobby of finding weird shaped things from around the farm. The farm itself didn't have but so many ways to entertain one's self with aside from checking over the few farm animals and the like and so one had to find ways to not go stir crazy on the quiet property.  
  
The child would find odd-looking items (or 'treasures') and then come and tell Shana what they were, usually in the form of overly imaginative tales about what they were. Today it was a piece from a frost giant's throne. In truth, it looked like a mangled piece of sheet metal from the shed. Thankfully her team had cleaned that area up long ago of Harris' body. They were under a self-imposed gag order on what they were hunting and their progress. They did not want to unduly panic the small family nor have them rat out said info to any other civilians, especially crazy old Mr. Fenkins. Especially not crazy old Mr. Fenkins.  
  
Most dealt with him on an as needed to basis but generally spoke to Eisha in his stead. But this gag order meant that they couldn't outright say to the family to not freak out about the rogue Tyrant. This also meant that the small boy who loved to treasure hunt could find himself one of the hunted. So Shana would have him report his findings to her, usually at a certain time of the day. She sometimes even searched with him. This made sure that he was kept safe under the guise of playing a game. His tall tales weren't the best but they were better than him being hurt.  
  
“What a cool find, Charles! I wonder, is it freezing?”  
  
“No, Miss Shana, it feels warm to me!”  
  
“Let me check and see...oh! It's so cold!”  
  
“No, it's not!”  
  
“Yes, it is! Let me prove it.” Shana reaches to the boy's face only to lightly tap his nose going, “Oh my! No wonder it isn't cold to you, your freezing all over! Are you a frost giant too?”   
  
Charles giggled before laughing out, “No. I'm just a boy Miss Shana! You should know that!”  
  
She ruffles his hair, laughing with him. A low snort had her look up from playing with Charles to see Mason looking at her with a distant look on his face. Charles had gotten up; the boy wasn't particularly fond of hanging around Mason not that Shana could blame him, Mason has that effect on most people.  
  
When Mason had arrived, he said it was because Harris was acting weird on the walkie talkie. Like he just started yelling and suddenly went quiet. He had to check it out. But what had him stay here, she doubted it was of his need to find that rogue Tyrant.  
  
“Seems you are good at playing the mother, eh green? Didn't think you were into that kind of life.”  
  
This had Shana glare at him; “Didn't think you cared about my home life. Let's keep my personal from the job,  _Bill_.” He looked also hurt when she spat out his name. She was tired of his constant jabbing and was in no mood for it today or any day really.  
  
“Look, green. It's nothing personal like that. You just didn't seem the type.”  
  
“The type for  _what_? I didn't know I needed a certificate to interact with children. Oh, that's what this is about. Figures.”  
  
“Look, Bevins. You ain't the normal type of bird I've met I'll give you that. I'll even say that if not for work I'd be the first to buy you a few rounds; maybe even take you out on the town. I just don't want to see you in a body bag like Harris you know. You're a good one. I don't want to mark another funeral on my calendar.”  
  
“I am -not- helpless!”  
  
“That's not what I said. I -said- I don't want a queer bird like you to die on my watch, Bevins. You scream green and I can't watch you forever. I don't want you to leave someone grieving because you had to play hero.”  
  
“I didn't ask you to.”  
  
“You gave me no choice, Shana.” For the first time since she confided in him those years ago, he allowed sadness and regret to fill his features. That talk they had, when she and he were partnered – him her trainer and her his trainee long before she was moved up to 'green recruit' – had changed everything between them.   
  
 _She didn't know until it was too late; he didn't know she couldn't be that way for him._  
  
Shana looked away only to see a crumpled item at the strangely open door frame; the piece Charles had found. It was very out of place as he was not a messy child, putting his 'treasures' up on the walkway shelf.   
  
Shana called out, “Charles? You left your treasure on the floor-!” becoming increasingly worried as the boy did not make any sound denoting he was coming towards her voice. As she had approached it, she saw scuff marks on the ground as if someone small had struggled. Thing was, they both heard nothing despite the signs of a struggle nor were any other marks found around the small footprints.  
  
But the clues were there plainly.  
  
Charles was missing.


	6. On a Devil's Wings – 5 Unfortunate Implications

**On a Devil's Wings – 5 Unfortunate Implications**  
  
  
Evening came faster than she expected; Sheva was surprised (but shouldn't have been) as two figures entered into the house from the back porch one with what looked to be a huge buck. She was thankful for their arrival as after her last remark she had felt as if she tripped and near swallowed her own foot on the fall down. The conversation had taken a trip into the awkward as Jill simply sidestepped Sheva's last comment by wondering out loud where her two 'minions' went. It was obvious she was dipping out of the conversation but Sheva herself wasn't in a hurry to return to it.  
  
To see such a huge creature lifted like little more than a sack of wheat had her look over in awe. That awe quickly turned to barely hidden unease as the Tyrant without even acknowledging anyone in the room had dragged the buck to an open storeroom. That room was full of blood splatter and what looked to be salt all over the floor and surfaces of the room. A long metal table sat in the middle of the room, it constructed to hold and drain out the excess blood; at the one beveled end swung a bucket to catch the excess.    
  
The buck was unceremoniously laid onto the table; a hard swing of a butcher’s knife had Sheva flinch as she realized that Jill was serious about going country out here as she watched the Tyrant work using the sharp tools to behead, then de-skin and gut the huge creature. Sheva had no qualms about knowing where her food came from – she had to do the same when she lived in Africa. It was just seeing him do it, the monster ripping the creature apart as if it was something he always knew how to do, knowing he may have done the same to other innocents in his past-  
  
“Auntie, are you okay? You look sick. I can get my doctor kit and make it better!” chirped Sia, the child as always being painfully observant at the worst times.  
  
“N-no, I'm fine, girly girl,” Sheva had to push down her disgust as the Tyrant had nonchalantly plucked an eyeball from the buck's discarded head, tossed it up, then caught it in his mouth, “but thanks for the concern.” Sheva could only watch as the monster decided it'd be a great time to hold the beheaded animal's head up by a tentacle puppeteering it behind himself so that once he finished a section of preparing the buck, he'd literally bite a section off of the head clearly eating it as a snack.  
  
“Nemesis!” Sheva could only turn to the blond still stirring the huge vat of cooked vegetables; Jill only needed to look at him, before the Tyrant made a small growl more to himself before placing the head down to the back of the room by a tendril but not before plucking the other eye out by the same tentacle. In a macabre yet amusing way, it was akin to seeing a wife snap at a husband for snacking on the dinner roast before it was ready. Sheva softly giggled behind her hand at the strange humor behind this before he sharply snapped his teeth closed around the stolen eyeball. He didn't even chew this time, swallowing it as is. Then as if to be bratty about it, the Tyrant opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue demonstrating it was completely gone. Sia giggled from her side of the table; the Tyrant then puts a finger to his face as he began to snake another tendril back to the buck's head.   
  
“You eat another piece and you'll find yourself sleeping downstairs.” The warning was stated playfully, but with the way the monster quickly kept his tentacles to himself afterward,  it was rather clear Jill kept her promises. He simply finished carving up the large animal, carting it to where Jill was cooking in the rather decently sized kitchen. He even without prompting started dropping a few choice cuts into the boiling pot. The rest of the uncooked meat was placed onto a very large dinner plate and left to the side on a wiped down cooking area.   
  
After some small talk and recipe trades (and the Tyrant managing to steal a chunk off that conspicuous dinner plate) after a few hours, dinner was done. Broiled deer meat surrounded by vegetables in a mushroom sauce was the main course with some homemade pies Jill had stored in the cooler. Well, that was for everyone but the monster near in hog heaven eating the rare chunks of meat still dripping wet with blood.   
  
Sheva at first tried her damnedest to not stare but it was rather hard when you are near a nearly 9-foot tall beast whose eating habits resembled a rabid dog. Jill noting this, gently nudged him. The Tyrant simply shrugged not getting it before Jill softly hissed, “Eat like you actually aren't in a hurry for once.”  
  
Sia grinned before laughing, “Daddy doesn’t know table manners, Momma! He just eats!”   
  
Jill sighed before laughing at the obvious before speaking apologetically, “Yeah, I tried to get him to use place settings and a bib but every time he just uses his hands like a giant kid. It's kind of a lost cause. At least he's more in control of how much of a mess he makes.” Sheva could only secretly ponder at the absurdity of attempting to teach the guy manners much less succeeding on some level.  
  
“Ah, that's okay Jill. I didn't mean to make it a big thing, it's just I've never seen him or B.O.W.s at all eat. It's...well something new is all.”Sheva ate her own meal; Jill definitely had a way with wild game as she had no trouble enjoying the meal, but she couldn't help but look up at the Tyrant eating easily what was half of that buck all to himself. “Seems he likes it a bit on the very rare side?” She saw the small twitch of his brow, the monster very aware she was talking about him but was too engrossed in eating to care.  
  
“Yeah, apparently he gets ill off cooked meat. I think it's because the nutrients he needs from it is gone. Like empty calories or overcooked vegetables for humans. But instead of simply getting fat or falling to malnutrition his body just rejects it. And you don't want to know how difficult cleaning nonhuman vomit is.” Jill punctuated her point with a scrunched up face.  
  
“So, you let them hunt for fresher meat because of that?”  
  
“Yeah, the fresher the better. Besides, they are rather efficient at getting big game which is good as you can see, he's a pig. Though he'll just burn it off tomorrow. I wish I had his metabolism.”   
  
“You of all people should not complain about your weight, Jill. Still looking rather good considering what you've been through.”  
  
“As if you don't Sheva? Please. Fighting bio-terror and still looking flawless.” Both women break into laughter.   
  
Sia suddenly leaps up then giggles. “Daddy, that tickles!” His eye slightly widens as he looks up from biting into a back haunch. Jill silently tilts her head at him; she then slightly blushes as she realized what probably happened only to laugh even harder. The Tyrant had this near mortified expression as he clearly intended that tentacle for someone else.  _I guess monsters can feel embarrassment after all_. Sheva didn't think too hard about the accidental play, Jill was laughing, laughing with genuine happiness in her features.  
  
That's what she wanted to see. Jill happy.  
  
Sheva softly smiled, before looking up to the only male in the room. He was looking point blank at her, before ripping open the fatty gristle of the leg he was working into. And for a split second instead of that leg was a boy, sagging helplessly in his hand, spasming as if he was trying desperately to breathe in his final moments the sharp teeth ripping into him with just as much abandon as if the boy was food.  
  
“Sheva! You okay; you look ill? Sia, please get her spoon from the floor then get me a wet towel. I think your Auntie is getting ill.” Sheva could only lean into Jill's touch, hating that she was ruining this happy moment.  _But that boy..._  
  
She felt lightheaded, and let Jill lift her up from the table. As Sheva rose with her, she looked upon the Tyrant again, absently eating still, but not hiding the cool glare towards her either.  
  
….......................x  
She awoke to the smells of chickens, dust, life. The feel of gravel and dirt crunched under her tipped boots. Her cloak grazed along the ground, the mask covering her impassive face. She moved with a feline grace that hid the arms that were strapped to hidden holsters along her body suit. Had she'd been able to, she would've taken in more the rural yet simply living conditions straight out of a national geographic photo spread. Instead, she faced straight ahead, following behind the taller, blond haired male. His emotions, or rather his eyes were always hidden behind those shades – as if anything but evil could hide behind them.  
  
He pushed ahead till they both arrived at the village's meeting house. Just the two of them and yet the look on the persons inside the traditional thatch housing did not hide the apprehension the two outside brought in with them. A sea of brown, 12 in number, backing from the masked one and the pale man in the shades.  
  
"Well, it seems that you have yet to notify us of your stance in this pressing matter." the blonde man spoke smoothly, with a voice of a groomed salesman. "What TriCell is offering is very generous, it would be folly to turn such a benefactor away." A well-oiled snake that can drift through the thickest of shit for a buck.  
  
A small, gravelly voice spoke, low yet clear through the room full of assorted women, children, and tribesmen. All quieted as the voice of the tribal elder took precedence.  
  
"We are a small village. Proud and strong." She could see the faint twitch of the blond man's lip, the faint movement the only sign that he was bored and annoyed.  
  
"The Gods have troubled us, punished us with famine and strife. But we stand strong under Their guidance."  
  
A small movement of her partner's fingers had Jill prepare. Every fiber of her being didn't want to, but the P30 sitting on her chest overrode any descent.   
  
"Our Gods...they say you bring poison. Lies. Death. Our Gods, they are nev-!" With the flick of her hand, Jill had slid out her firearm. Without any input from her mind, her slender finger pulled the trigger planting a bullet between the elderly man's brows. Blood splattered onto one of his wives and past onto the thatch walls. And him, that bastard spoke as if nothing happened.  
  
"Security for your domicile was to be granted in turn for your simple cooperation. But it seems the deal is off the table. Jillian, do take care of the women and children. They may be excused."  
  
Damn him.  
  
Damn him. At least let me point the gun to myself...  
  
Jill watched through unblinking eyes as her hand, her arm, and her fingers all of her worked to do the very things that rent her mind. Her booted feet approached the group; a village boy, no older than 14 ran for the door. He never made it 2 feet as Wesker had shoved his hand clean through the teen's chest with barely movement spent. The dripping from that monster's palm filled Jill's hearing. She couldn't even see the boy's face in his agony as her body rigidly walked to the others. Her gun raised flush to a brown forehead. The little girl looked up at her, brown eyes watering in fear. Jill remembered the sway of her hair, done up in rows of small intricate braids ending with Cowrie beads at the tips. The beads were white as her trembling teeth. If Jill could, she would've flinched. She would've pointed the smoking weapon away. She wouldn't be standing here with red smattering her mask, hearing the loud sobs.  
  
Like a piston her gun went off down the line, the younger males in the room cornered by her accomplice. She is an accessory now. Right?   
  
"Dear heart. Hurry with that. They stain if you linger too long."  
  
The way he casually said that, made her ongoing rage flare. But that rage was trapped between her emotionless eyes. The chief, his 2 wives, children...  
  
The way he said  _Dear Heart_  though, made her skin crawl. Her job never just ended here.  
  
Four males varying from their late teens to their mid-30s was cornered all knowing there was no way out. One was picked up like nothing, as a small tube was opened up.   
  
"And now, you shall become one with a true God. A God that will bless you...that is if you are worthy." That boy struggled as the Majini was shoved in his mouth. The others backed away as he squirmed on the floor. One, well built and clearly one of the village warriors shoved not past Wesker but on top of him trying to buy the others time to escape. A simple hand gesture had Jill move with inhuman speed. Her left leg moved, clipping the male by the neck pulling him off Wesker and onto the floor. Her other leg closed around his neck meeting each other before twisting. An audible snap denoted the end of his struggle.   
  
At least he died mercifully.   
  
The boy on the floor was pale, jerking in ongoing pain. The other two just boys themselves huddled repeating phrases she didn't understand. They sounded like prayers. The words would've made her cry if she actually had the control of her own body. If she actually could...do something.  
  
Anything.  
  
Jill suddenly jolted awake, her body beading in sweat. She could still hear their weeping; their low murmurs in her head. Their prayers being unanswered. She softly clutches a small metal cross that swung from under her tee it near stuck to her skin. Her bed was empty; she could only presume he was out patrolling. He seemed to usually keep such activity to the midday;  _I guess he wanted to be sure Sheva didn't lead others here_. She tried to smile at his thoughtfulness but her thoughts only returned to the fearful prayers that she and that blond monster denied.   
  
 _They did nothing. No, they were guilty. Guilty of not being perfect. Guilty of being unbroken. Guilty, guilty, guilty!_  
  
Jill held herself shaking; it had been a long time since she had these dreams. For a while she'd feel a faint unease – but not to the point that she could hear that bastard's voice again. No, not again. Need to make it stop.  _Not now. Not while Sheva's here. Stop it_. She softly got up to the bathroom, making sure her steps were quiet. She didn't want to alarm or awake anyone. She'll make it right again.  
  
…....  
 _“I’m doing this for humanity. Only for humanity. Whatever freak shit you are into I don’t care. I want it and anything that threatens us all put down. If that means putting out that idiot at the helm then so be it.” The soft pops of audible distortion can be faintly heard, muddling the end of that speaker's sentence.  
  
“I do what I do for humanity too, Mr. …Haddens is it? I do what is best for humanity.”  
  
“By creating …that?! That…!”  
  
“Temper temper, Trent. He is a means to an end. Your family was a mere casualty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”  
  
“Fuck you, old man! I should just fucking blow your brains out! One less piece of scum on this earth!”  
  
“But will that gain you what you really want? The enemy of your enemy is your friend after all.”  
  
“I’d never call you friend. Nor do I really want your dirty money. I just want the BSAA clean again.”  
  
“And you’d take such a Faustian deal to do so? How dedicated-“   
  
“Don’t even. Gandon.” The last of that statement was nearly spat at the other speaker. “ **You**  are a means to an end. I deliver the bitch and you end that creation you have running about. After that our relationship is ended.”_ The high whine of whatever recording equipment was used had started to go into a feedback loop, causing Sheva to abruptly stop the replay of the recording. She since those events it seemed ages ago had tried to push that traitor's voice out of her mind. So hearing him recorded no less talking to such a horrible man made her blood boil anew. It was clear proof that he had been taking money under the table. The strange thing was how odd it was for it to have been recorded at all.  
  
Going by all the files she received from Jill on that fateful night, Ghandon had a thing for recording everything. Everything: conversations, procedures, staff, test subjects...locations. So many videos of civilians, military – it was if the man was a voyeur getting off on watching everyone. The files were meticulous, sorted by date, location; well and beyond testing videos. In fact, some had on record innocent people dying in such horrors as Raccoon, and some doing very intimate behaviors clearly unbeknownst they were even being watched.   
  
A few involved Jill doing things, the silent watcher observing what she and the monster did in full detail. Another...recording Sheva and Chris.... _that sick fucker! How? How could this pervert have recorded all this?!_  It definitely implied that Ghandon was clearly unhinged and that he had eyes everywhere.  _And Trent would give up his soul for this? For this!?_  
  
Sheva pushed the laptop away from herself; already exhausted at roaming through the countless files that increasingly made her ill. She needed to get a chance to talk to Jill, to let her know what she had uncovered. As she kneaded her temples, Sheva could hear the creak of a door and the near muffled sound of someone heavily breathing.  
  
It wasn't sexual; more panicked. She didn't hear any violence taking place, but her curiosity had her rise to see if everything was okay. She softly cracked her door open to see Jill shakily walk to the hall bathroom. She was normally pale, but she was sweating profusely despite wearing a floor-length bathrobe. Sheva would have left it be but Jill looked ill like she was going to pass out. The BSAA could only softly get up, walking slowly down the hall to the bathroom. She took to moving quietly because, in all honesty, she wasn't sure if Jill was alone, or in danger...Sheva wasn't certain but she wanted to be sure.  
  
As she got to the door, she softly knocked on the worn wood, a few scratches not missing her notice. In fact, as she had drifted down the hall, Sheva had sworn that out of the corner of her eye that she saw a hole barely covered by a picture.  _Odd_.  
  
But she was less worried about that, and more than she got no reply from the occupant in the room. “Jill?” Sheva knocks again. No response. She started to really worry about her friend now. Sucking in her breath, Sheva opens the bathroom door only to see Jill sitting blankly on the side of the tub. She had made a quick movement beside herself as she was closing the sink drawer.  
  
A wet rag sat next to her as the blonde quickly dabbed her face. Only after doing so did Jill speak; “You okay, Sheva? You kinda didn't look good earlier and figured you needed to rest. Didn't expect you to be up this late.”  
  
“I could ask the same about you, Jill. I heard sounds and though you had fallen ill.”  
  
“Eh, probably something didn't agree with me, that's all. I guess I got so enthusiastic that I didn't cook the food through. What a way to welcome guests, getting everyone sick. I hope girly girl is doing okay...” Jill made a small frown as she moved her legs. That frown seemed to curl into a small wince that she quickly seemed to repress.  
  
“Well, I'm doing better than I was before. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”  
  
“That's good.” The blond smiled, then quickly frowned again an almost embarrassed look coming to her features. “Oh damn. I've been hogging up the bathroom. Here, I'll get out so you can freshen up as well. Also, if you need towels or soap or anything, it's all in the hall closet and under the sink here.” Jill punctuated this by tapping the sink drawer. She then almost as if in a hurry, she slipped out of the bathroom leaving Sheva alone.  
  
It was odd how she just rushed out but Sheva chalked that up to her being a gracious hostess. This was the first time she had been in this residence and Jill probably sees no one now since she's 'officially' dead.  _She's only trying to be the best hostess/friend ever, that's all_.   
  
As Sheva flips open the toilet lid to relieve herself, she sees a tissue floating in the water. It was coated with a few red splotches. Nothing weird; she could understand a bit of embarrassment trying to clean up after that. But something didn't seem right. If it was just that; they were two adult women. A bit of blood shouldn't have Jill so...jumpy?   
  
Sheva's eyes dropped back to the sink drawer and opened it finding small typical things like nail clippers, tissues, etc. She didn't know why, but something seemed weird and she couldn't place it. As she began to close it, she felt something sticking in the back of the drawer. She pulled it all the way out so she could move whatever was causing the jam out of the way. In the way back of the drawer, she found it; a small ring box. Sheva started to wiggle it around before she noticed a small dot of red faintly staining the grey tone box. Sheva's curiosity got the better of her as she fully pulled it out of the drawer. She cracks it open expecting maybe an old ring only to find it containing a lone disposable razor blade. The blade faintly coated in brown stains. Sheva softly placed the ring box back to its position, closing the drawer.  _She wasn't going to jump to conclusions. She wasn't._  
  
Please tell me that you are okay, Jilly.


	7. On a Devil's Wings – 6 Shock and Awe

**On a Devil's Wings – 6 Shock and Awe**  
  
  
“The fuck, green, you cannot just up and go on a wild chase!” Mason snapped in a low whisper. Despite his abrasiveness, Shana could tell that he was worried too as the lines creasing over his brow could attest. They were both pacing in the small doorway where it just seemed just seconds ago the eight-year-old was even there.   
  
“Mason, he's missing. He's missing and you are going on about other shit, and you know that boy doesn’t just wander off!” Shana hissed back also in a low voice.  
  
“Calm down. He was just here. He probably got bored. Kids do that. There is no reason to cause panic. We're under a gag order, remember?”  
  
“I know, but this isn't like him. I don't want to freak out his family, especially that old man!”  
  
“Look. We can both go comb the place. I bet he's just playing one of his stupid games. Farm kids, damn.”  
  
“Fine, I'll take the outer area of the farm and you check nearest the house.”  
  
“Since when you are giving orders?”  
  
“Fine. What do you want us to do?”  
  
“You go to the outer perimeter and I search near the farmhouse.” Shana narrows her eyes as Mason grins that aggravating cocksure smile at her as he walks away from her, already looking towards the tool shed.  
  
 _Ugh. Always making it about him and taking my ideas_. She leaned down to pick up the metal item that the boy had left behind; the scuffing of footmarks was all that was left behind. It was strange. It was if the boy was lifted off the ground, as no other footprints encased him.  _It was as if whoever took him was never on the ground..._  
  
She looked up to see the roof and beyond that the crisscrossing of large tree branches along the dark night sky; a large oak tree overhung the main house. Eisha had been planning to with what little funds they had to spare to cut it down. Shana had started to eye the branches and how far they led from the house. The branches looked sturdy, large and mixed with the just as large branches of adjacent trees. It was a far fetch but they could have possibly been sturdier than she gave them credit for. As she followed to where the branches ended, she found herself towards the backside of the land shaded by rocks and high brush. She let her eyes land on the end of those branches and saw them – larger patches of crushed in grass denoting someone or something was here.  
  
In fact the prints; it seemed off that there was a clear trail at all. If this was that B.O.W. that they've been searching for it had made a big thing of never revealing its trail. And now a clear path? Something wasn't right. Shana could only take in a deep sobering breath before walking along the large clearly formed prints in the raised near savanna high grass.  
  
The high strands of foliage bounced along her face, not helping her vision at all. But she pressed on, hoping that the dark made her approach hidden from whatever could be out here. It didn't help the occasional flare-up of small mosquitoes the push of each new stalk of high grass caused.  _Fuck this grass. Wait..._  
  
She could only look up and see what she thought was a thin sound; like wailing from further up. It was faint but she picked up her pace.  _That could be Charles!_  Shana began to quickly push through the tall grass to see what look to be a small dilapidated house about half the size of the main barn house. She never recalled seeing this place in their initial sweeps nor was told of it from the residents here.  _They may not know of its existence_ , she thought.   
  
Shana out of instinct raised her gun in a defensive posture, hearing a creaking sound.  
Her eyes drift to the sound’s direction; a faint trail of blood droplets ghosted the ground. Her gut feeling was now constricting as she raced inside the dilapidated building. She opened the door cautiously, the creak of the floor mockingly loud under her boots. Despite this, Shana gave a glance to her surroundings, hoping to place herself in the damp and rather pungent smelling area.   
  
She silently sucked in her breath before taking the first few steps down the near brittle stairs only to hear what sounded like a voice, no  _voices_. One she recognized and the other...  
  
“This voice it. It mutters. It breaks. Can you tell us? Tell us little thing. Where is this voice from? Do you know?”  
  
“P-please. Don't hurt me. I was ju-just looking for a frost giant tooth....y-you can have it back...” The soft boyish sobs of Charles made her heart lurch. Was some crazy hobo holed up in here? The other voice sounded off, and almost impossibly deep as if the stranger was using voice warping software. It had an unsettling purr to it yet it seemed whoever was speaking had a vocal tick as they would stop talking after a few words like it was too hard to go beyond a certain amount of words. Shana felt ill at ease but at least it was a human, she can deal with a human.   
  
“The little piglet talks. It talks and squeals...this voice. It isn't ours. Yet it comes out? Can you tell us. How it comes out?”  
  
An unhinged human, but a human none the less. Shana kept her bearings, sidestepping the rotted wood, and ruined furnishings hoping to get closer to the unidentified stranger and the boy. The voices lead her to what looked to be through a ruined hallway with tossed around pictures to a lower den area. The path seemed to get darker and darker, the faint light from the stars outside showing through the hall windows falling to nothing.  
  
“I-I do-don't know. I'ma so sorry please dun eat me-”  
  
“Eat? We don't eat. We watch. We learn. We keep in return.”   
  
“Huh...? I...I want to go home.” She could hear Charles sobbing again, his small voice radiating fear. She could only wonder what the hell this guy was going on about as well. Once she got a good position to shoot, she'll try and snipe to disable. Shana was hoping for a resolution that would have all three of them walk out alive. As she walked further, her boot stepped onto something soft; she held in her disgust as she heard the crack of bones under her foot. A dead animal of some sort. She could vaguely make out the blood trail from before, it ending here. This gave her hope that Charles himself was unharmed. But if this dead thing was here, there would probably be more which is probably why this place smells something awful. She kept creeping, lower past the den doorway, barely avoiding a turned over washing machine blocking part of her path.  
  
“Home? You are home. Home with us and of us. You will stay with. Us and of us. Always a part of us. The loud male was. Of us. Then we let him go. All over the barn floor! He smells as waste does.” This was followed by mad laughter, the tone making Shana's skin crawl. She couldn't place it, but that voice sounded wrong; not normal not just because of its off kilterness but something else she couldn't place.  
  
“..please...I don't like this game...”  
  
“Game? Games are for children. We are but dogs in the dark. Good dogs are rewarded with pain. Bad dogs are punished with pleasure. And others blood shall. Fall like rain...”  
  
Charles had started to flat out cry, his voice heavy with sobs. The strange man's voice had dipped again from the cold laughter to worry, pleading to the child, “Nonono don't do that. Are you happy! You are home! Stop it. STOP IT!” The last bit had that same voice in a roar, shaking the room in his mad yelling. Shana was creeping closer now. This guy sounded fucking batshit and she needed the boy out from him, now.  
  
“You can't! You  **won't**! Don't worry. We'll let you in now.” The strange way he'd leap from pleading to insane made her reconsider her plans for a nonlethal engagement. She wasn't sure what the stranger meant by 'let you in' but her gut told her that she was going to have to snipe him quick. Rather have a traumatized boy and a dead crazy than whatever the crazy was planning.  _Just hold out a bit longer, kid_.  
  
Charles' voice came out small and worried, “Y-you'll take me home?”  
  
“Yesss...home in us. You'll be home forever.” Shana took in a deep breath planning to swing out with gun raised, but something large and worm-like had  _slithered_  around the wall beam. It crawled along the support wall as if it was trying to reach up to a fixed point along it. This distraction held her attention in the darkened and fetid smelling room.  
  
Suddenly the piercing screams of Charles along with the crunch of something filled the room.  _Shit!?_   She planned to go guns blazing but a part of her settled for merely peering along the wall beam only to lock eyes with the little boy.  
  
Charles' mouth was parted in an open scream, his body rocking in clear agony. Large fingers were literally pressing into the boy's skull like it was little more than a fruit. Blood ran down past boy's nostrils and out of his mouth as the large fingers managed to press through to inside his head. The boy's eyes had long rolled back him clearly aware; the large fingers had removed themselves from the newly made hole, itself seeping copious amounts of blood to the floor.  
  
Shana was near transfixed, stuck in horror at what she was trying to comprehend was happening. Those fingers, they were larger than any human hand she's ever seen, the stranger dwarfing the boy struggling to stay conscious with the added hole in his head. She could only look to the face;  _he couldn't have been a zombie, right? Zombies don't talk! Majini do but not as coherent? What is ...is this?!_  
  
Shana was trying to comprehend, trying to explain what was happening to this boy to herself only to see the glare of red-rimmed irises glaring blankly forward. The head of the stranger lifted itself up revealing the lack of lips. A long, near serpentine long tongue slipped from between the hideous set of shark-like teeth, a thick trail of drool coating it. That tongue lapped hungrily around the still twitching boy's scalp, enjoying the red that coated it.  
  
She could feel the urge to vomit rising from within as she could only numbly watch as that tongue perversely plunged inside the boy's skull as if he was trying to fish for more of the unfortunate boy's brains. The low giggly sounds the stranger – no monster was making was a memory she never wanted to remember.  _This monster, it fit what scant notes she had on that NE-T class Tyrant...yet it didn't? Their target was not known for talking, yet he was?_  
  
She could only cup her mouth in horror as the Tyrant started literally scooping the brains out of the child's skull with his tongue the floor fluid slick with the internal fluids of the boy, his body still twitching in the throes of death. He pushed his tongue deeper in still, trying what looked as if he was trying to suck more of the brain matter out. Unsatisfied with this method, he slowly snaked out that horrifyingly long tongue out of the boy's skull only to bite down ripping the hole open more with his teeth.   
  
The flesh had gotten stuck on the beast's huge canines; it tossed it's head back causing the remainder of the boy's eye socket and left eye to rip off and fly up the loosened pieces landing in the monster's mouth. After this, the monster began to just savagely eat ripping away with abandon at Charles' corpse, the boy mercifully slipping away. At least Shana hoped.  
  
Shana was using all her willpower to not choke on her own vomit; the horror in knowing she could do nothing for the boy was pushed down as she had forced herself to stay pinned to the wall. She wanted to cry but she could grieve later. She had to get out of here, at least to let the others know.  _I'm so, so sorry Charles._  
  
She tried to look up to the ceiling to repress the tears that wanted to come, trying to focus before the smell of urine hit the air adding to the already stiffing smells of slaughter near choking her. As she looked, she realized that the snake-like thing was still there, still creeping.   
  
Shana then jumped, choking back a yelp as that voice spoke again, the sounds of absent chewing and smacking near over-coating it, “So many rabbits. Moving about. Are they looking for this little mouse?” The Tyrant sniffs the air, the thin flap of skin that probably covered the nasal passages shifting grotesquely on his face. “Little mouse smell so bad! So, so bad. They were bad. Soiling the floor! That's a mouse. Not a dog!” Unceremoniously the Tyrant detached from the long-dead child, pushing the corpse off of himself.  
  
“But that's okay. We have them in our. Belly. Their thoughts in our blood. See, he is home!” The room was suddenly filled with off kilter laughter. That laugh, it was inhuman; that voice was too low, too demonically low to have ever been a humans and she hated herself for not picking up on it sooner.  
  
That laughter sharply stopped, the voice dropping to a lighter, teasing tone, “The little mouse couldn't answer our. Question. We asked cause our voice. This voice is here? Maybe after eating that. Other rabbit's thoughts. We learned? So confused. So, so confused!   
  
“But maybe this rabbit knows...this rabbit...why does it. Shiver? Is it cold? We can't help that. But will it help us? We are lost. Like Alice in wonderland.” Shana wanted more than anything for this horror with his uncanny voice to stop talking, to just – her body froze as she saw that snake again, trailing close to her head. For some reason it being closer despite the clear threat on the other side of the pillar she hid under unnerved her. It crept closer and closer, the purple and black segmented creature leaving a trail of film as it traveled. She tried to move slightly to avoid it before she saw another trailing along her leg. She realized that the pounding in her head was her heart beat running a mile a minute – and that the two snakes were not snakes.   
  
“Rabbits know everything. They know where lost things are.  
  
Don't you, you little bitch?” He says this in a low snarl, the 'snake' by her head slamming into the pillar, piercing a good 3 inch hole beside her head. No snake can do that. But a tentacle  _can_.  
  
“Tell usss...tell us where the sow. Is? We would like that. Tell us where!”  _Oh god what the hell does it want, got to get out...got to run!_  Her mind was now in panic mode, knowing full well she was not remotely equipped for this; she hasn't felt this off kilter since her first day with the BSAA. She panicked thinking  _I'll find Mason and maybe find the target, then radio help b-but not this!_  Shana just felt like she was going to lose it, the sight of someone she knew being ripped to pieces messing with her head.  _M-maybe I wasn't ready for this despite all that training-_  
  
“Ohh...Are you going. To cry, little rabbit? Are you you going. To gift us with tears? We would like that very much...sisters give the best of tears...”  
  
Whether it was by pure instinct or luck, Shana moved just in time for the third tentacle to miss impaling her through the chest cavity. She didn't bother with being quiet; the creature knew damn well where she was and she was not going to die down here. All she could do was run, bumping into old furniture in the dark pushing through to the hall and out of the house. She did not hear any footsteps, just that Tyrant manically laughing -  
  
“Run run run you. Stupid female. Run and let us. Breathe your fear! Run! Leave us your taste. In the air.”  
  
…....................................................x  
 _That was so close. Too, too close_. Jill didn't want to, but she had to. It...it made her calm. She didn't expect Sheva to even be up that late! She had left the bathroom, checking on Sia still soundly sleeping in her bed. She then walked to her bedroom, softly closing the door, letting out the breath she was holding only to take in another.  
  
But this one wasn't out of fear and embarrassment but out of a deep longing for the occupant now reclining on the California King size. She missed him when she first awoke; seeing him laying sprawled out, his limiter suit and boots already neatly laid to the side of the floor made a baser part of Jill pulse in desire. He laid there with not an inkling of shame and at the ready. She softly disrobed letting him see her with just the glare of the stars shining through the window from the outside her only covering, the light popping off her necklace.   
  
A low approving growl was all the reply the occupant in the bed did before sitting up. He reached out his large, un-gloved hand; Jill walked forward cupping that hand, bringing it to her face. He then pulled that hand back along with hers, softly sniffing along it causing the thin hairs along her arm to raise. He began to nuzzle along it before licking along her wrist causing Jill to softly hiss. Normally, she would have pulled her arm away, not liking what was found there. But to him she couldn't do that, wouldn't do that.  
  
She wasn't even sure if he understood why they were there; all the same he licked along the small thin cuts, causing the newest one to open in a small bloom of red. A strong yet gentle tentacle pulled her by the neck towards him followed by a long hungry tongue trailing down her neck down to her shoulder teasing along the multiple impressions along that shoulder, coated with bite marks old and more recent.   
  
A low, wanting growl rumbled from his throat as she pushed him back to the bed, Jill's pale body following in tow.  
  
…...........  
  
Plates of eggs, bacon, sausages, biscuits, fruits and other breakfast assortments filled the table, with the customary pile of raw meat as always to the side. Jill as always lost herself in cooking, letting the smells fill her nostrils. She had cut up the raw deer meat before anything else, deciding to surprise her mate with an already made pile. He oddly did not awake with her but she rarely bothered to rouse him. He had his own internal clock. A deeper part of herself prided on the possibility that she made him unusually well rested today hence his lateness.  
  
Jill could only longingly smile at the thought.  
  
 _'Such brightness, eh Dear Heart? If only you'd do that more. It fits you.'_  
  
At once she felt her throat close; her eyes dilated to near pin pricks and she felt herself near go into shakes. Sweat beaded along her neck despite it being in the middle of fall.  
  
 _'Why the long face, Jillian? Is this how you greet your Superior? Oh, that's right, you are too busy being an irresponsible failure. Shame, shame.'_  
  
She could only hold her shaking hand to her face as she glanced at the place at the table where one Tyrant would sit only to see another in his place. Stone faced, with a faint smirk the only clue he felt anything at all, with the light of the kitchen glinting off his infamous shades hiding cold sun bursts that stared right through her. Her voice wouldn't work, her legs were jello and she felt cornered and small.  
  
 _'Taking responsibility.' The blond haired monster began to muse a moment, before starting again: 'That is something you've always dreaded, haven't you, Dear Heart? Having to own up to your true wants and desires. No, being an adult in charge of everything good and bad, that's too much work. Being a numb, emotionless child is so much easier so when all goes wrong you have someone else to blame.'  
  
Please leave_, Jill thought.  _Please, just fucking leave._  
  
The ghost from her past just went on, not seeming to care about the absolute dread he made her feel:  _'I simply made it easier for you as children, no monsters like you do well without things such as guilt.'  
  
Get. Out. P-please leave! Nemesis, make him leave!_ The man simply drummed the fingers of his left hand along the table, before with his right diving into a pocket pulling out a switchblade. He stopped his absent tapping only to playfully flick open and close the switchblade before looking through those shades exposing those demonic discolored eyes at her.  
  
 _'I understood this, yet you hate me all the same. What a shame...as the games we could play...'_  
  
Jill jumps in fear as the sound of a dinner plate shatters along the floor. A pile of eggs lay ruined on the floor near her feet. Her hands were held out shaking, as if she was still holding the plate. She looked to where she swore that dead man was sitting, where  _Wesker_  had sat. But it was as if he was never there.   
  
She could only hold her hands to her head, pulling at her hair and trying to control her breathing.  _N-no. That..that wasn't real._  The nightmares were back; no these were now in the day, but they scared her all the same.  
…....................................................x  
  
The only thought in Shana's mind was to keep running, to find Mason, to find  _anyone_  to take this fucking thing down, the thing with fragments of Charles' face and brain along their teeth and face!  _Ohgodohgodohgod!  
  
What would Valentine do? She'd run like hell not be stupid and try to save the world!  
  
Wouldn't she?_  
  
Shana was asking herself this not necessarily because she wanted to imitate Ms. Valentine at this point, but to help repress the mental images of that little boy being utterly ripped apart in front of her … _and her doing nothing. Doing utterly fucking nothing!?_  
  
She ran, the feeling of the back hairs raising along her neck motivating her to run faster. She made it to the side of the store room for the hay bales. Nearby was the tool shed she saw Mason walk to earlier. She slowly approached the small thing, hoping that he was there – a kick to push the door open – nothing. She softly exhaled – only to have a hand cup over hers.   
  
“Mmmmrpph!” Shana smashed her head backwards before twisting around in her stunned assaulter's grip, gun up at the ready.   
  
“God damnit, green! The fuck! You almost bust my nose open!” Mason started cursing smaller insults under his breath cupping his sore nose.  
  
“Fuck you Mason! Why'd you grab me and...I-I just saw ..I..!”  
  
“Spit it out, shit! What has you worked up, Bevins!” As he kept on questioning, Shana leaned past him seeing the door to where the hay bales were stored wide open.  _Did I not notice that earlier...?_  She could only slightly shove Mason away only to lightly jog to the open area. As she made it to the door, the smell of putrid death hit her in brutal force. The other two team members of their small squad – one it looked as if their face was smashed in with the surrounding wall near painted in red. With what, Shana couldn't tell as she saw no weapons, bricks or anything that could have done such damage within such a short time. The other was also met with the same fate. She could only back up from the scene as Mason still mad walked up to continue his tirade only to stop as she had.  
  
“Shit.” He pulls up his walky talky before angrily pressing in the receiver. “Yo! Any BSAA area teams available at area 4396?” Nothing but air greeted him. Shana despite herself pulled out her phone, not giving a damn if she shouldn't have it.   
  
No signal. Not a single bar. Of course she can't get signal now.  _Fuck_!  
  
“Of all the times – we have to get to the home, Mason. We'll have to call out by land line.” Mason simply looked up above them; the one, barely there phone line that this farm had was gone as in someone or something had lept up and physically cut the telephone wires basically cutting off contact to the world. Their stalker had planned this.  _Planned this down to kidnapping that boy...he was the lure to get us separated and scattered_. The calculated way this was going down sent a chill down Shana's spine.  
  
“Bevins. I think our prize deer has arrived. We're going to scan the house, get the family out here so we can get the fuck out of dodge. Did you find the kid?”  
  
She could only nod her head; her expression told Mason all he needed to know. “Ok, lets sweep.” Shana could only gamely nod as the both of them approached the house. Mason kicked in the front door, no longer worrying about their gag order or any semblance of calm. They first sweep the living room. Nothing out of place, just the same old rickety chairs and wooden handmade tables.   
  
Shana kicked a larger covered sofa, in case something was deciding to hide under the sheet, discolored with age. The sway of a light intermediately popping on and off caught their attention. It was as if a lamp was swaying hard across the kitchen illuminating the room as it swayed. Other than that, the area was dim. The smell of food burning wafted from the area, punctuated from something clearly being left on the stove for too long.   
  
Despite herself, Shana went to go check that; a  pot of something burned to black. But that became secondary as she saw a body hunched to the floor. She softly turned it over with her foot to match eyes with the dead body of Old man Fenkins. The old man was clutching his chest, his face set in horror. It appeared as if he had a heart attack and collapsed right where he stood. Whatever he saw spooked him this bad; aside from this the man looked untouched. Considering the fate of his grandson, he was one of the lucky ones. Shana out of respect leaned down, and closed the elderly man's panic frozen eyes.  
  
This just left one person to find in this increasingly gruesome search. She wanted to call for Eisha but there was no telling if that thing was in here with them right now. Shana backtracked to the living room before following to where she last saw Mason.   
  
 _It's strange how a small cottage feels like a huge cold filled mansion when you are under siege_. That's what this felt like; a long protracted war – and that their watcher had finally begun his assault.  
  
She leans her head into the small hall bathroom. Nothing. Shana then sweeps slowly into the master bedroom the room near pitch dark with a lamp fixture and the contents of the large ornate dresser smashed to the floor. The only light she had was the uncovered window. She slowly sweeped, nearing the bathroom till she bumped into something larger than her and warm. This had her near jump out of her skin. The other figure had also flinched from running into her before snarling, “Shana, for the life of me this isn't the time to poke me in the dark!”  
  
“Right, Bill. Keep on thinking that.” For a moment, they stared at each other in the dark. Then Mason started to laugh. Shana didn't know what he was getting at but oddly she couldn't help but laugh either. This was something; 50% of their team is dead, the family they were watching is probably dead, and a crazy Tyrant is stalking them but they could only sit and laugh at the absurdity of their situation. They should be panicking but, this moment to just catch their breath,  _war allows for this right?_  
  
Shana felt wetness on her face right at that moment. But, as much as she wanted to cry she didn't recall starting to. Mason also made a movement as if something hit his face. She unthinkingly put a finger to her face trying to wipe away what wetness was on her face to see thick blood instead. She then quickly looked up only to step back in horror. Above them shrouded by the dark was the large ceiling fan. Now affixed to said fan was the body of Eisha dripping down blood from off her dangling appendages. It looked as if whoever did this had the sheer strength to bodily shove her onto the middle dangling light fixture.   
  
“Damn this bastard...” she heard Mason hiss out. “That broad didn't deserve to die like this, none of these people did. ...we're going to rush for that car, Bevins. We're gunna rush and pray that bastard didn't cut the breaks and get the fuck out of here. You on board?” His voice was all serious; the man clearly spooked now.  
  
Shana nods, and for the first time in a long time, both were on the same page.  
  
“Ok, let's-” Before he could even finish his sentence, three large tendrils slammed through the glass window as if it was paper. One sliced right through the man through the back and out through his chest, another looped around his neck, and the other around a leg. And with pure strength the three tendrils pulled him through that small window the shower of glass and the sounds of his screams over-coating the room. Shana didn't even have time to shoot at what was doing this – she just knew that within a few seconds Mason was gone.  
  
And through all that, Shana could hear lowly growled along the wind:  
  
“Shock and awe. Is the fear that rewards...Now the real fun. Can begin.”


	8. On a Devil's Wings – 7 Angels are Monsters

**On a Devil's Wings – 7 Angels are Monsters**  
  
  
 _Those who can, rule. Those who can't, obey. - S.T. Ghandon_  
  
…......................x  
  
 _The birds fly by the by_  
  
The hour previous, two men in uniform were rooting about in the shed; the noise of something moving caught their attention. Their voices sounded jovial, as it was probably yet again just a rat rustling something. One was rooted by a bale investigating it with his gun, another stood a few feet away picking nonchalantly under his fingernail. A poke of a gun barrel around said bale revealed a mangled corpse of a fox, the eyes ripped out. The solider that upturned said bale had stepped back slightly as the smell of fresh death hit him. He turned to see a large purple-black colored thing cruise at him at an inhuman speed to wrap around his neck in a suffocating chokehold.   
  
His partner could only turn in response to the sharp muffled gasp but one tendril sped towards him as well, but this tentacle did not stop at just wrapping around that one's neck. It writhed upwards only to shoot past the man's lips forcing itself down the male's throat, the human dropping his gun in a panic trying in vain to pull it out by hand. The tentacle kept going far past the throat, well past choking point. The sounds and smells of gagging and then wetness intermixed in the room with the man choking on the tentacle and the vomit it caused by pushing in so far. And then, to the horror of his partner, it pushed further in the sounds of internal organs and bone cracking giving way to the invader replaced the previous disconcerting sounds. The still struggling body could only twitch as it was being viciously impaled from the inside. The tendril only stopped when it made a messy exit out the man's lower backside.  
  
The still living male could only flinch as his now dead partner's body was discarded; the tendril wetly slithered its way out like a fleshy whip only stopping at the head like a fish-hook before whipping forward, letting gravity let the body hit the floor. But the worm-like thing was not done with the corpse; the same tentacle-like appendage that murdered him was lashing at the dead man's head, the monstrous thing so strong that it was bashing in his skull like fruit. The faint sound of arguing was heard from a distance; the monster that controlled the tentacles chuckled as the other human couldn't even scream as the tendril around his throat tightened. That same tentacle that murdered his partner was going to do the same to him-  
  
 _hunting for their blackberry pie_  
  
So much talking; arguing. But then the little, the tasty little rabbit. We saw it play. We saw it give chase. We want to make it into waste...  
  
 _squawking and screeching_  
  
The little bitch, she thinks we can't see! She is terrible at this game! We should teach her. Yes, teach her and then she will be worthy. Wiser than the male she runs to, ohh he smells of want. But she smells of fear, just fear. Filthy weak thing. But she dresses like brother's female. These types of humans surely know the game!  
  
 _their voices beseeching_  
  
They scramble to see old carcasses; we sneak into their nest oh yessss. We still smell the leavings of vomit. Human filth! Another smell, we see and worthless! More worthless filth! It reeks Father! It reeks of illness! Decay! It grabs its frail flesh and falls. Worthless...  
  
 _for Father's blessing_  
  
...ooh what's this. Another peering around the corner. Handshaking over her face. Rabbits are soo cute! She wants to touch that diseased filth but why? Then she turns oh no we can't have the rabbit flee no no no No NO! She tries to open her mouth; we grab her by her long-dead protrusions right by the scalp and throw her to the fan. She won't be warm anymore. No, no. Rabbits are always warm. Two rabbits left to bind with our arm.  
  
 _washes away all sin possessing..._  
  
…...........x  
  
Sheva sharply jolts awake. She had dozed off from spending another night reading files. She cracks open an eye to peer at the clock.  _7:45 A.M_. Rubbing her eyes, she pushes aside her laptop only to hear something else sharply fall to the ground. Sheva pushes herself up out of the bed, tossing on a tee over her bra and adjusting her pajama pants before walking towards the kitchen. She arrives to the smell of eggs and blood in the air. Quickly scanning the room, Sheva spies a plate of untouched raw meat but looks down to see Jill near curled in on herself her hands gripping her hair. She looks pale as a ghost and was surrounded by a half-moon of eggs scattered in front of her along the floor.  
  
The closer Sheva got to Jill, the more clear was the other woman's heavy near erratic breathing. The distressed woman's blond hair was covering her eyes, Jill's head downcast towards the floor. The BSAA slowly reached out, hoping to calm the clearly distraught woman down.   
  
The sharp push of a hand keeping Sheva away was not expected. In fact the closer Sheva got, the more Jill curled in on herself. The last time Sheva saw her like this, her and Jill had barely outran a nearly crazed Tyrant - the same one that she is now living with... _did he put her in this state?_  “Jill..what is wrong...tell me...,” she whispered hoping to at least get her off the floor.  
  
“D-don't touch me.  _Don't you dare_.” The tone of that voice came out in a near guttural growl, the voice unlike that of the woman Sheva considered a close friend. It was as if she was a cornered animal and lashing out. Despite that warning, Sheva tried to reach for her again; the blond suddenly sat up, her eyes peering out sharply from behind her disheveled hair. The pupils looked dilated as if she was in a state of pure panic. But the thing was, it looked as if Jill was looking past her as if she was speaking to someone not there.  
  
“I can move now, don't you  **dare**!” Jill near screamed this before lunging at Sheva. That time Sheva expected movement and caught Jill's open palm towards her face before quickly turning that hand's arm backward. That arm was near sweating from stress but also had a strength that had Sheva actually struggling to restrain the woman. Jill was known for being athletic, yes, but this felt  _off_.   
  
A low snarl had the blond quickly try and pry off Sheva's hand with her free one; but oddly despite the strain it took to counter Jill, she was still able to pin that one back with her free hand. Sheva knew if the woman wanted to truly fight her, she'd be putting more of her all into this. It was as if she was lashing out to lash out, not to really harm. As Sheva held the woman's arms behind her back, she felt them, felt the thin yet raised areas of her skin along her arms. She let her fingers softly trace along those wounds, those marks-  
  
Sharply, Jill began to increase her struggles in Sheva's grasp, her breathing now faster than before; if she didn't stop, the woman will pass out. “Shush. It's okay. It's okay,” Sheva whispered, genuinely worried.   
  
“No! No, it's not! Don't lie to me! Stop lying to me!” Jill near screams, the woman is breathing in erratic breaths now, shaking but still firmly caught in Sheva's grasp.  
  
“Jill, listen. Listen to my voice. You hear me?” Sharp gulps were her answer as Sheva forced the blond to hug close to her. “If you can, just listen to my voice. Just keep listening. Calm with me Jilly, calm.” She softly began to rock the two of them feeling the sharp and erratic breathing slow and the near tautness to Jill's body loosen.   
  
Suddenly, the blond leaned into Sheva's shoulder signaling her defeat. “Please, stop...,”  was softly whispered against her shoulder.   
  
“It's okay...it's okay...”  
  
“...but he's...I -” a soft conflicted whisper breathed that last against Sheva's shoulder, causing worry to rise from the BSAA.  
  
“'He' what? Did you get hurt, Jill? Are you being hurt? Please, tell me what's wrong?” Jill stops talking; she pulls away from Sheva, shame filling those eyes before she looks downwards again. “I can't help if you don't say-”  
  
“I didn't ask for your help!” Jill suddenly snaps coldly, before sharply rising up from the floor. She softly wipes her eyes before muttering, “Don...don't worry 'bout it. Just made a stupid mess is all. Don't worry about my petty shit. I gotta get breakfast going.”   
  
 _Is...is she going to just pretend this didn't happen?_  Sheva begins to open her mouth, then decides against it. The blond had in the span of a few moments regained her composure, framing her expression as blank as the day Sheva met her – that day Wesker peeled that mask off her face. She had near robotically returned to the kitchen, gathering towels to scoop up the mess cooling on the floor.  
  
 _Okay, that's it. I'm telling her now. Maybe showing her what I know will clear her head. Something isn't right and that monster is at the center of it. I know it._  
  
…..........x  
  
  
Shana could only cup her mouth as Mason was just here, and now wasn't; the sudden speed in which he was taken still trying to register to the shell-shocked woman.  
  
“What is TAKING YOU! Come out rabbit. Come OUT!” With that scant warning, the BSAA leaped back as a tentacle slammed through the roofing to where she stood down past and into the floor. The BOW clearly knew where she was in the placement of the house; no matter if she lept out of the window or the door, the Tyrant would be there. This realization had Shana keep her arms up at the ready, hanging back inside the house.  
  
A loud annoyed snarl rumbled from the busted open window; this was followed by a large thud as the beast had in his limited patience dropped down to in front of the window. The scant light from outside dappled the large creature with a halo showing the horrible contrast in size of him compared to the ruined window. In his trip down, she could see the form of Mason being discarded like a bag of trash to the monster's side.  
  
The NE-T glared at Shana, his eyes intently staring forward at her in this near blank stare. She remembers the pictures of the NE-T they were supposed to be hunting; in the photographs and from other BSAA accounts, he seemed to have this lidded, cold glare that unsettled even the bravest of them. Some speculated that the lack of pupils or coloration at all to the Tyrant's eye was what added to the unsettling feeling, but this one had color to his eyes and strangely it did not help at all in reducing the effect of that pure unhinged glare nor the unsettling feeling it gave either. He had gone from wide-eyed to lidded in seconds, tsk-tsking at her in a soft childlike voice, “Silly rabbit. Why do you drag. Your feet? We thought you. Were ready to play?”  
  
She instinctively backed up as the large Tyrant just shrugged through the frame of the window, just pushing himself through, cracking the once study wood and brick aside. She could visibly see the house strain as the Tyrant didn't care at all about the stability of the home.  
  
“Little rabbit. We are not enjoying this. As we should. Why do you back from us? Huh? This upsets us.” As the monster spoke, his voice made Shana tremble from the sheer low bass of it. The wetness of the bloody drool leaving his permanently exposed teeth did not help her nerves at all. “Why, oh why does. Everyone walk away from us? We did nothing wrong. Nothing,  **nothing, NOTHING!?** ” The B.O.W.'s voice bellowed across the wrecked house, echoing his unhinged snarls to all.  
  
Shana could only numbly hold her gun, before a moment of clarity hit her. If she could just inch by the door- The woman flinched as a long tentacle had shot out horrifyingly from the Tyrant's hand, almost a half inch away from her face, pointing to the path she was trying to slowly sneak off to and embedding itself into the wall. “Answer us, little rabbit. Where are you. Planning to go? We are right here. Do you not talk? The other rabbit talked. Give us your name.  _Give us your voice._ ”  
  
Shana could only look in front of her, her brain screaming that this didn't make sense at all, that BOWs didn't talk and how could he have known that she was trying to go that way?! The tentacle suddenly whipped from out of the wall but raised upwards writhing at her face. It wiggled uncomfortably near, the appendage near dripping with what was probably virus. It then slammed back into the wall; that including the low snarl he made had her unthinkingly yelp out, “Shana!” before she pushed herself flat against the wall.  
  
“Ah. So rabbits do have names,” the monster purred in satisfaction. “Such a warm name. So soft 'Shana' feels. On our tongue. So simple. But not as simple as. The sow's name. Breeding and breeding. Pups to be eaten! But little rabbit Shana. Knows this? Will the rabbit show us?”  
  
“...I don't know what you are talking about...” Shana hurriedly replied before flinching as that gross worm-like thing crept close to her again, the woman trying to keep calm. It was a hard task as she was effectively trapped in this room with a bleeding corpse overhead and a large threat blocking her two ways out. Somewhere in her head, the mantra of trying to appear calm was all that filled her head.   
  
“Yes, you do. Rabbits know everything. Rabbits know all names. Even ours. Don't you?”  
  
“N-no. I don't know anything,” she answered, her grip on her weapon like a vise, “Not even your name. Do you have a name?” Talking to a BOW was definitely not something she expected to be doing today, but it seemed that doing so was keeping him from outright attacking or at least distracting him from doing so.   
  
“Silly rabbit, Shana.” Hearing the Tyrant roll her name off in that inhuman, drawl of a voice made her skin crawl. “Silly little thing even forgot. Our name. Father gave us a name. Father loved us. Enough to have one. Father said he wanted. To name us Abel. But settled on Zeus. He wanted his sons. To have strong names. But middle brother was bad. So Father punished him. With a female's name!” Shana gulped as the monster went from his rambling sentence into a deep laugh that was competing with his speaking voice as most unsettling.  
  
Shana in hearing his little story wondered out loud, “You have a brother? I thought you were all alone. A-are you?” She partly wanted to keep him occupied with this conversation but she genuinely blurted that out, as she was under the impression there was only one Tyrant of this breed, that no one could be this cruel to have two of them roaming about... _a girl's name?_  
  
Suddenly, she felt her body physically moved, her hitting back first against the wall hard. A flare of pure pain greeted her, her arms pinned over her head. A large hand was roughly gripping hers while the other had wrapped its meaty, grime and gore caked fingers around Shana's throat. A low, vicious hiss along with the faint swipe of sharp teeth grazed her right ear: “Brother? Why do you ask of. Him. He is filth. He is our lesser. Our mistake. Our bitch. Always the bitch he is!!? He isn't more important! He isn't! Why you care of him??! Why do you ask of HIM! It's always about him!”   
  
She could feel her breathing cutting short as the monster began to rage again. Shana did the only maneuver she could think to do as her hands were held in an increasingly crushing hold in the beast's paws. She kicked the NE-T in the shin, then swung again hard and low. But she felt nothing there. Nothing at all.   
  
 _Wasn't this one responsible for that child-!_  
  
Shana felt her hands loosened only to feel herself take a trip against the edge of the doorway and into the darkly lit hall. The sound of boots charging towards her had her instinctively duck down as a fist punched through past the drywall and wood supports of the wall.   
  
“Bad rabbit. BAD. You don't touch! You never touch! Filth touch  **there**!”  
  
She could only roll as Zeus went to swing again raging at her as she coughed at the disrupted dust from the newly made holes in the wall. The monster ripped out his fist from the wall as she began to run down the tight farmhouse hall towards the kitchen. The monster began to roar causing the house to shake from the sheer volume, smashing the walls as he followed her.  
  
As she ran, Shana turned and shot at the beast, aiming for the kneecaps. Bullets who with their hollow point tips should have had the power to separate the tendons on a T-103 merely bounced off the trailing monster.  _Fuck. Stupid waste of bullets. The reports said he wore protective gear. Or at least that was what his brother wore. This one; there was another one we weren't told of._  She didn't have the time to worry about why that information was withheld from her. All Shana knew was that if he reacts the same as her original target, then fighting him in close quarters was a bigger death wish than outside, that and this house wasn't going to hold up long with this bull rampaging inside it.  
  
She dodged into the kitchen, kicking the old wood table into the path of where she entered the room. It then hit her. He moves way faster than her. He had enough speed to clearly take off with Charles, then return and stalk her and Mason. Enough speed to take out everyone before they noticed. A short hall should be nothing to him.  
  
A low laugh announced Zeus' presence, before those reddened eyes peering through the dark met hers.  
  
“So you are. Ready to play.” A low pleased growl was all she heard before a large meaty leg stomped down upon the table, splintering it into pieces. Her heart was thudding a mile a minute as she realized, he was playing with her. Unlike with Charles, he was dragging this out in some insane game only the monster understood the rules to.  
  
As she back away, she noticed a canister of propane sitting to the side. To pass the time waiting out the BOW, she and the other agents helped the family smoke some meats. The smoker was still outside ready to be cleaned out. The canister was separately brought in to prevent injury or a gas leak, at least that was what the old man said. Shana could only eye it a plan formulating in her mind. The monster continued to leer at her, licking his teeth with his eyes lit up in giddy excitement. With that she aimed her gun at first at Zeus, staring him point blank in the eyes. Those crazed eyes then narrowed, a shift in his mood keeping the BSAA on guard.  
  
But she wasn't going to let all these people die in vain. She needed to let the Commander know. She kept staring up at him, seeing that she held his complete attention.  
  
“Rabbits are not. To stare. Staring is bad. Wrong. Does the rabbit not. Know how to  **play**!?” The Tyrant's voice shifted from giddy happiness to rage within seconds before she replied, using all her willpower to keep her resolve:  
  
“No. I-I'm ready to leave. It's time to stop playing, Zeus.” The Tyrant tilted his head before letting out a long, unhinged giggle towards her statement. Shana slipped her hand into a back pocket before tossing an item towards the canister. As the item flew mid-air, Shana sharply turned to behind her. She had seconds; the sudden bull like sprint from the NE-T echoed in her ears. But she was closer than he to the weak screen door and used her all to get to it first. As she dodged, she aimed her gun right at Zeus getting a crack shot off the beast's face. Zeus roared in sudden distracted pain as the bullet grazed his face.   
  
He clearly wasn't hurt by the shot but more agitated as it stunned him for a half second in figuring out what hit him. She could see faintly the look of confusion on Zeus' face as she managed to get to the back door first, shouldering the rickety thing open. She shoved the screen door open with all her might, hoping to use those precious seconds of confusion to gain distance.  
  
As her foot touched the door jamb of the door, she felt the heat before the sound as the unpinned grenade exploded catching her causing her to fly into the dirt, her face and body roughed up by the sudden blast. Shana looked up to see the back kitchen area of the house rocked with smoke, some small fire and the back half-ruined by the small explosion from the combination of the grenade and gas canister. It took all her strength to not pass out. She couldn't now. That blast would probably do little but knock that beast out at best, and agitate it at worst. Despite her injuries, she pushed herself up, limping to the van hoping for Mason's plan to work.  
  
….....................x  
  
Sheva had headed back to her room. She had to steel her nerves now. The BSAA only realized how nervous she was when she looked down at her shaking hands. She held out her fingers, only to clench them into tight fists in her resolve. She came here to help her friend and she will.  
  
She leaned over to her bed, the laptop sitting open while sitting amongst piles of documents with BSAA letterhead. She wasn't sure how she felt about the letters that defined her life, but the doc file that sat open prominently was all that she needed open.   
  
 _Wait. I didn't leave this open..._  
  
Sheva suddenly noticed a shadow over her. The hairs on the back of her neck raised up as she looked towards the top edge of her laptop. A large half-gloved finger sat at the top of the screen. The silent owner of that finger leaned over, causing Sheva to instinctively push herself back towards the bedroom wall. The Tyrant looked at her with that trademark deadpan glare, his gaze boring a hole in her head. Sheva could only look down, her gut telling her to never stare him directly in the eye. Animals take it as a challenge. The files she had read over confirmed this.  
  
A low, almost approving growl answered the gesture back, but other than that, he made no move to hurt her. Yet. Sheva took this moment to speak, not sure how much time he was going to mercifully give her:  
  
“I did not fight Jill's decisions. I thought somewhere in this mess that maybe she would find peace. Deep down, I hoped maybe you just didn't comprehend what you have done. I even believed, hoped that one, she was right and two, that that man was lying about his son.  
  
Regardless, you can't hide this forever.”  
  
A low snort was his answer.  _That was it? A snort? Is he not aware that Jill deserves to know?_  
  
“...is this a game to you?” That last came out as a whisper, slipping out before Sheva could censor herself. She flinches; Nemesis had stooped lower to be at the level of the bed and herself. He turned the laptop towards himself, while a stray tentacle wrapped around a pencil. The monster had taken the pencil into his hand, turning it eraser down.  
  
He then pushes buttons with the eraser tip, it better able to hit the small laptop keys than his own inhumanly large fingers. The Tyrant types slowly yet carefully with the eraser tip. He then turns the laptop back to the cornered woman, trying to hide her clear fear of him.   
  
Sheva looks down at the screen. A notepad file was open, reading 'she miss you' in broken English. This phrase had Sheva's blood run cold. As she read what was said, Nemesis steps back from her, quietly glaring at her.   
  
“So, that's how it is to play out then,” Sheva whispers more to herself than him.  
  
He still intensely glares at her. A faint flicker of his tongue grazes along his teeth. She knows from the tapes how careful he was to hide this. How careful he was to play up the 'unknowing monster' role to others. She doubted he'd stop. She doubted he would want to as he, for now, had won.  
  
“You are only keeping me alive for her, is that right?”  
  
She looked up expecting him to coldly grunt at her again only for him to suddenly turn his head to look absently at the window; they both see Jill and Sia playing together in the yard. He looks almost wistful if not in deep thought as to him his mate and child are at play. Sheva deep down already knew his decision; she just wished it didn't have to come down to this.  
  
A curt low nod was his answer; Nemesis sharply faces Sheva again, his lone eye narrowing. She is overstaying her welcome now. Sheva softly slides off the bed, keeping her back away from him. She begins to quickly grab her things but one – he refuses to return the laptop, the images and documents still sitting open on its ever glowing desktop.    
  
Nemesis pulls the slender electronic towards himself, the light from the screen illuminating his eerily calm face. He eyes the screen, letting the pad of his large thumb touch the thin laptop membrane. The Tyrant eyed the desktop wallpaper - a picture of their little 'family' hand-drawn by his own child as a gift to Sheva scanned into a .jpeg file to be saved forever - before softly closing the lid.   
  
Sheva couldn't help but look at him, the victorious monster who realized he couldn't win Jill in a game of violence and so played a different type of game.  _Whoever said monsters played fair?_  One of his hands easily filled the span of that laptop, but he held it with two – right as he brought it down to his knee. The laptop broke into two large pieces as he unceremoniously dumped the pieces into the trash that no doubt would go missing soon. He had every intention of playing this to its end, which made Sheva fear for Jill.   
  
Fear for both her and Sia deeply.  
  
He acted as the notes expected of him. An apex predator would eradicate anything that threatened their territory, their possessions, and their position as alpha.  
  
His eye still never left her face. Predatory coldness was all that was there.


	9. On a Devil's Wings – 8 The Devil Is In The Details

**On a Devil's Wings – 8 The Devil Is In The Details**  
  
  
 _'...No man can tell What has come stealthily creeping over his life Until too late Hot ashes and pain...' -Antigone_  
  
…......................x  
  
 _Out of breath, gotta get there. Vision blurry. Flashbang closer than thought. Keys in pocket can feel. I’ll get there. Flaring along my side tells me there’s deep bruising. Gotta get there. Gotta…gotta get to. Car. It’s there…right there. It’s right-!_  
  
Shana near trips over herself. Something clammy yet warm had gripped along her leg, the same leg on the same side that was lighting up in continued pain. The same side she slammed that screen door open in a mad dash to outrun her own grenade, the same side she fell on after the explosion rocked the farmhouse. The woman felt like her heart was going to leave her chest before she looked down. Not a tentacle was found, but a hand. A bloody and weakly shaking hand.  
  
“…green…don’…don’t stan…ther…please...”  
  
She pushed through the pain and the slightly ringing her head was experiencing to pull the still alive Mason off the ground. She was built in stature at times rivaling some of the other men. But even had she’d been slighter, she would’ve still grabbed the prone man off the ground. As she shouldered the man, her thoughts returned to what they once were:  _gotta get there, gotta get to car…_  
  
….....................x  
  
“Are you sure? This seems urgent even for them.”  
  
“Yeah. I have to head out to an overnight. Josh tried to buy me time but it’s urgent. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay longer…”  
  
“…I know.” It broke Sheva’s heart to hear that note of disappointment, or sadness or…was it fear? No. It couldn’t be. Things are fine.  _So fine that I’m being pushed out_. The BSAA doesn’t even dare look at the larger occupant lounging on the living room couch, quietly watching as Sheva tries to keep cool, tries to believe her own lies for leaving early. Trying to repress her real thoughts.  
  
“It can’t be helped. I have to go as they  _forced_  my hand.” She couldn’t help the hiss that slid out of her voice, but she quickly kept it in check.  _Think of Jill. Think of Sia. Don’t make a scene.  
  
Like leaving them here is better!  
  
You can’t fight him and you know it. He knows it. Probably hopes for it.  
  
…fuck._  
  
Sheva packed the last of her things into her pack ready to just get the hell out of here.   
  
“Before I go, I so can’t leave without giving my favorite girly a gift.” Sia had in all this sat moping, looking rather heartbroken that her Auntie was rushing off again, gone for however long this time. Sheva pulls out of a side pocket of her pack pulling out what looked to be a small box. The little girl looked over in slight interest before walking forward. “I got you a cool box to store your pencils, crayons, brushes and whatever artsy stuff you have. Isn’t that great?”  
  
“Sure, Auntie,” the girl grumbles not wanting her to leave.  
  
Sheva leans towards the girl, saying this low for just the child, hoping he couldn’t hear: “Well since I won’t be here, I left a bit of me inside your box. This box was my old pencil box. I used to as a kid draw a lot just like you. It was fun and made things feel better for me. I didn’t turn out to be a great artist, but maybe you will? And if not at least this box can remind you of me. You can think of me every day even when I’m not here cheering you on as you get better at your art. I’ll always be here, just hold this close to you, okay. And even your mother if she wants can see it too, in fact, I hope you do as it’ll probably cheer her up, okay?” The little girl nods.  
  
“Be good, you little monster.” Sheva smiles as she hugs the girl, ruffling the child’s hair. The girl smiles up into that hug before gingerly taking the box from the woman. Sheva nods at Jill. “You keep these two in check, okay? And let me know if anything changes. I’ll be back, just you two wait, okay?”  _Fake smiles; and he just sits there knowing he wants me gone. But that’s okay. I’ll help them no matter what, no matter how small. I am her white Knight after all._  
  
And with that thought, Sheva left out the front door, not even giving the last of the trio a direct acknowledgment.  
  
….....................x  
  
Slowly, Shana pushed the two of them to the car. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so thrilled to see that beat up, plain looking car. That car was going to get them out. She wills her body to lay Mason down gingerly in the back of the car. The man was bleeding out from the chest, but he wasn’t wheezing or looking as bad off as she expected. Still, she tore off some old sheets from the pile in the front seat. They had earlier that day went errand shopping for the family as both a favor and to continue building trust, getting small items from the supply store up the road. The bag of cooking oil and some new pans sat, reminding Shana of the family that no longer needs them. A small glass bead sat on the car dashboard, a treasure that Charles had found for her the first week they stayed on the farm.  
  
“Green, just tie it…tie off…I’ll be okay,” the gruff man mumbled. He was trying in his own way to reassure her, but she knew he needed more than that and soon. She rummages in the van quickly using a first aid spray to stave off the bleeding. She would have to get him anti-virus. But that would come later. Quickly, she ties the piece around the wound.  
  
His leg and neck had heavy bruising but otherwise was ok. She sprayed those places quickly before securing Mason in the car. She tried to reign in her fear, but a nagging thought occurred to her. When the Tyrant yanked away Mason, the monster had a clear shot at the man. Tyrants are known to kill at first chance and these NE-Ts were not known for failing in that. They always fought to kill. But these injuries…it was as if the monster purposely avoided his vitals. She remembered reading Ms. Valentine’s notes about her experience in Raccoon. Horror set in as a key portion came to mind.  
NE-Ts are accurate in what they target. They are just as accurate when they intentionally miss…  
  
Intentionally miss…  
  
 _This...this is a fucking game to it! This Zeus let Mason live. The Tyrant probably didn’t expect her to escape-_  
  
As she climbed into the car, a loud guttural roar echoed across the farm. The inhumanly low sound bounced off the buildings, causing birds to fly in panic and a chill to drift down her spine.  _It was possible that incident in the farm was either planned…or she made an already dangerous creature angry and on the warpath._  
  
“Green…what are…we…” the older BSAA moaned out.  
  
“We’re getting out of here like a bat out of hell, Mason. Just like you planned.” With that statement, Shana turned on the ignition and pressed on the gas. She knew the roads back here now and was trusting them to get her and Mason out of here.  
  
….....................x  
  
Sia cradles the box to herself; she was still upset about Sheva leaving but felt a bit calmer now that she was at her desk. The wood desk was covered in various sheets of construction paper, each with various drawings done by her small hand. She opens her new pencil box smiling at the new set of pencils inside. She softly shakes it liking the sounds the pencils made inside.  
  
She wraps her fingers around a pencil feeling something bump against her fingers oddly. She shifts her fingers around the box seeing a small tab at the bottom. It was a small pull tab.  
  
 _Oooh, a secret!_  Sia couldn’t help but let childlike curiosity take over. She gently pulled the tab thinking maybe her Auntie hid another treat inside the box. Instead was a note and a small plastic thing she didn’t recognize.  
  
….....................x  
  
 _Blood drips like a current off of a once pristine stainless steel table. A laptop nearby was also splashed with the fluid. More splash onto the table. A gaunt man is struggling as he is stabbed over and over again with a pencil. That pencil almost rhythmically went in and out of the man’s skull, put in there by a mere child. That mere child’s face was set in an animalistic snarl as the girl repeatedly stabbed the green-eyed man to death screaming all the while at least assumingly so as there was no sound-_  
  
That file is closed; a shaky cursor hovers over another one.  
  
 _An extremely pale woman is strapped to a large chair seemly made for the express purpose of restraining test subjects. She could not even move her head; this made it easy for the brunette woman and blonde man to study her face. The blonde man glanced at the prone woman, his inhumanly lit eyes trailing red and gold through his shades. His face belied no emotion save for a small smirk. The brunette woman though did not hide her enjoyment as she brought the syringe near the bound woman’s eyes.  
  
The blonde woman was clearly awake as the syringe was pushed into the white of an eye, as the test subject needed to be awake as the virus was most active in said state. The best samples were highly concentrated at the back of the area behind the eyes. They needed her samples to build upon their big masterpiece – Uroboros._  
  
That file was also quickly closed as the user clicked open a sound file instead, the voice muffled but unnervingly familiar:  
  
 _“And here I thought the old crazy had met his timely end in Raccoon. Seems though things have a way of taking care of themselves.  
  
*crackle*  
  
…get that child...The other two are expendable. Only capture if the time is available. If not, expend all resources on the child.”  
  
*crack…..the sound clip abruptly ends.*_  
  
A file was opened; a video file she couldn’t have expected to be on this small pin drive played to her in crystal clarity. Jill was given the thing with a small attached note by her child, her lone child with such innocence in her eyes who had run out presumably to go play. The blond was trembling as she agitatedly looked through more on the pen drive. She tried to calm herself, that this was stuff she knew and didn’t know but needed to know, until she saw Sia’s face, and saw the raw potential anger the child had unquestionably in its recorded glory. Her hand felt clammy around the mouse as she watched what unfolded on her monitor screen.  
  
 _…my child…could she...would she…do that?_  
  
Despite herself she kept peering at the contents, trying to absorb what she was seeing. Jill felt like her guts were filled with ice. At the heading on the folder, she nearly lost her nerve. There was a reason Sheva left this. She doubted it was just about Sia. Why she didn’t verbally mention this pin drive, why she suddenly left and …  
  
'B.O.W. specimens T-103 – Nemesis T-Type 2003 > NEMESIS Project'  
  
The folders unlike the other times these files headers were shown to her had files. Numerous, detailed files. She spent a long time in this folder. Looking and trying to absorb so much. She clicks on a video:  
  
 _She sees herself cornered in a white padded room, the woman barely visible due to the much larger size of Nemesis pinning her by the throat in the White Room._    
  
How…how does this folder have this…  
  
But instead of the sounds Jill expected, a voiceover was heard as if someone was at the same time remarking their observations on the actions in the video.  
  
 _It seems even at this late stage my second born has all abilities intact. The near glazed and confused look to Ms. Valentine proves my theory correct. My son has the capacity to use anything in his arsenal to conquer and control prey. As noted in Protocols from the beginning of this project, NE-Ts command and take control of a situation and are to never be fully trusted. Alpha NE-Ts are prone to using their pheromones as more a weapon not as one would expect of their use in most humanoid species. Maybe due to their lack of mating opportunity, they repurposed what was a rarely used ability.  
  
Ms. Valentine is not reaching immediately for her concealed weapon, and despite the obviousness of him tampering with whatever gadget the BSAA have installed upon his person, she stays oblivious which is something I’ve only observed in her behavior since reuniting with the male. It is fascinating to watch…oh? So he plans to push ahead taking what he wants. It will be interesting to see if Nemesis succeeds this time as Ms. Gamine was of much weaker build than Ms. Valentine._  
  
Ms. Gamine? This ‘time’? He…was watching me, watching us even in the bunker? The more the strange and increasingly excited man talked the more Jill’s skin began to crawl, the speaker disgustingly thrilled that her mate was trying to assault her, that he was given this video probably by Trent, that this behavior wasn’t new to the Tyrant-  
  
 _Oh, …she manages to evade him. Ironically I could have used testers with such mental strength in my Umbrella days. Pity. But as expected, Ms. Valentine does not terminate him. The pheromones have long taken hold. My son is playing a long game. I at first thought him just disobedient, not killing this woman in Raccoon._    
  
The video cuts to a later clip; in her bedroom watching them in coitus. The voice was noticeably disgusted yet it was less it was because of seeing her and her mate intimate...it was as if jealousy had taken the place of his excitement. This man's voice was disturbing and she only soldiered on to see what he was getting at with these 'pheromones':  
  
 _He has managed to successfully mate with this woman. The fact that she can breed with him is of passing interest. But it’s her actions that cement my observations. A woman who had the mental strength to fight years of mind control that blonde monstrosity had foisted upon her was now my son’s plaything. He even has her thinking she has control of the situation! I wished I had refrained from meting out my punishment with his brother as the weapon. Then again, he is too unruly to be pushed to using such an ability of his own volition. Such a shame. Hopefully their offspring once she hits puberty will also develop such an ability? My son…my son has despite his faults has proven to me he is deserving of his name._  
  
Jill closes that file. She felt like she wanted to vomit. This pen drive was unraveling her world, one file at a time.   
  
Was all of this…a lie?   
  
Was all of this…was all she went through to get here a lie?  
  
She needed to calm down, needed to gather her thoughts.   
  
“Momma, you okay?” Jill flinches in her chair as her child, her only child had walked back into the small office she sat in. Her child looked nothing like the angry one videos ago. But the inkling of actual fear drifted as her child only looked at her with concern. Was that child in the video what everyone else saw?  
  
“Momma? What’s wrong…Momma?”  
  
The plaintive voice of Sia had her roll of thoughts stop, only for her to open her arms. Sia ran to her mother letting the blond hug the child.  
  
 _My child; she’s my child. And if that man is who I think he is, he deserved every stab._  
  
A part of herself flinched at the rationalization. This was an issue, but right now she had a bigger more pressing one. And he featured in a movie file entitled ‘Tra Tra’. That file was one of the first she saw. That file showed such deliberate glee, such callous disregard in his actions that it proved once and for all that  _U_ mbrella wasn’t the reason but an excuse. The woman faintly touches Sia’s neck wondering would he do the same to her, his own child? Would he with no remorse do it again, has he done it again? “Momma?” Jill realized that she was scaring Sia, her body trembling at the many thoughts. Her world felt like it was ending.  
  
She looked up from clutching the child, taking a deep breath only to lock eye with the last person she wanted to see right now. Nemesis was standing quietly by the office door, blankly...no...more like predatorily watching. It almost looked as if he was observing her like she was on display, licking his teeth absently. As if he knew that she knew and was waiting to see what she would do with this almost mocking level patience. It was the calm before the storm, Jill knew this now. Despite everything she trembled, both in want but also in unambiguous fear.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on dA around 2011


End file.
